


Sundays With Spideypool Volume 3

by NotEvenCloseToStraight



Series: Sundays with Spideypool [3]
Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Deadpool being Deadpool, Developing Relationship, Established Relationship, Every Chapter Will Be Different, Explicit Rating for Future Fics, Explicit Sexual Content, Falling In Love, Feels, First Dates, First Times, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Gender Identity, M/M, Peter is Andrew Garfield, Platonic Relationships, Prompt fills from tumblr, Sassy Peter, Sexual Identity, Smut, Some Canon, Spideypool - Freeform, au's, there will be smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-07-16 01:40:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 39,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16075685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotEvenCloseToStraight/pseuds/NotEvenCloseToStraight
Summary: A continuation of my "Sundays with Spideypool" prompt fill on my Tumblr (@not-close-to-straight) Will range from funny and smutty to sad and sweet and everything else! Each chapter will be a different prompt, and wont be connected to any other prompt.NSFW or any other trigger warnings are tagged in each "chapter summary"Anything NSFW will be Andrew Garfield/ Ryan Reynolds, Tom Holland's version of Spidey will only be used in platonic friendships with Wade because of his age.Feel free to add a prompt into the comment box and if I use it I will gift the work to you!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this one is for @deppfan16 who requested a soulmate au (yay!) where you can hear your soulmate’s voice in your head when they sing.

It was supposed to be romantic, hearing your soulmate’s voice in your head when they sing. It was supposed to draw the two of you closer together because you could learn their favorite song and know when they are sad or extra happy, or in a loving sort of mood– all that sort of thing. 

Romantic. 

Or in Peter’s case, the single most annoying thing he had ever had to hear ever in his entire lifespan of twenty two years and eight months and fourteen days because for the past six hours, his soulmate had been singing “My Heart Will Go On” from Titanic on constant repeat and Peter– Peter didn’t even know how that was possible. 

Six hours. One song. Repeat.  _Titanic_.

And it wasn’t just today. It had been yesterday and the day before that. Not the day before that though, and a few months ago, Peter had gone a full three weeks without hearing his soulmates voice in his head. But it always came back. Sometimes it was whispering, sometimes it sounded pained, but the singing  _always_ came back.  

And his soulmate didn’t have the worst voice, not really, but it certainly wasn’t Celine Dion and anyone attempting to sing  _like_ Celine Dion came across sounding like a pissed off cat who’d been left in the rain too long and after six solid hours of it, Peter was wondering if he could surgically remove the part of his brain that channeled his soulmate, because at this point his soulmate could actually BE Celine Dion and he wouldn’t want to hear her voice. 

“Spidey.” The singing cut off abruptly just as two hundred plus pounds of red and black clad muscles flopped onto the roof next to him, and Peter breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Pool. How’s it going?”

“You know, just once?” The merc shoved at him, which was probably meant to be playful but really almost sent Peter toppling over. “Just  _once_ I’d like you to ask me how it’s hanging. Just the one time. Give me one opportunity to answer that question.” 

“Absolutely not.” Peter shook his head. “Nope. That’s never happening.” 

“This relationship would be so much better if you set me up for all the jokes I wanted to crack.” He complained. “I mean, for a guy who dances around in tights and is all quippy and shit with criminals? You have a parched sense of humour.” 

“Parched.” Peter smiled beneath his mask. “I don’t think you’re using that adjective the right way.” 

“And yet you understood exactly what I meant, didn’t you? I tell you, Spidey. If you’d ever let me tap dat ass I’d be able to convince you we were soulmates.” 

“Soulmates have nothing to do with sex, Wade.” 

“I meant  _butt_ mates.” 

Peter hated that he laughed so hard, because it wasn’t funny, IT WASN’T, but Wade was teasing him and poking at him and  _ugh_ Peter loved that. 

Maybe he loved Wade, but he hadn’t figured that out yet. But he loved catching criminals with him, he loved inhaling all sorts of questionable fast food with him, he loved spending the nights on rooftops talking about nothing and everything and laughing until they were sick. 

He loved all of that.

“You’re thinking so hard I can practically see the lines on your head.” Wade commented and Peter glanced at him in confusion. “You know, think lines? Like in a comic book? And then when you figure it out, a lightbulb appears over your head?” 

“Uh–” 

“Nevermind, you’re like six years old.” Wade sighed dramatically. “Hey, I’m off to do something fantastic and heroic, you coming or gonna sit here brooding?” 

“Of course I’m–” Peter clapped his mouth shut and Wade groaned. 

“SO CLOSE! So close to making you say you were coming with me. Just say it Spidey, just one time!”

“Let’s just go, Wade.” 

*******************

Three a.m. and Peter’s eyes popped open wide as the first lines of “My Heart Will Go On” floated through his head and in a moment of pure pettiness, he started singing, “Johhhhhhhn Jacob Jinkleheimer Smith! His Name is my name too! Whenever we go out! The people always shout! John Jacob Jinkleheimer Smith! DA DA DA DA DA DA DA!!” 

 _Titanic_ went mercifully silent in his head, and then no less than a minute later–  _Johhhhhn Jacob Jinkleheimer Smith! His name is my name too!_ – and Peter wanted to just  _die_. 

********************

“What is up, cranky britches?” Wade left a sharp smack on Peter’s butt as he walked by, and Peter was too tired to even swat his hand away. “You didn’t sleep last night?” 

“Uh, nope.” Peter lifted his mask tiredly and took a disinterested bite of his burger. “No sleep at all. Had a stupid song stuck in my head all night long. Kind of the worst thing ever.” 

“Oh hey, your soulmate thing kicked in?” Wade tapped at his temple, sounding absolutely delighted. “That’s great! When did that happen? Mine kicked in like… two years ago.” 

“You have a soulmate?” Peter cocked his head curiously. “Really?” 

“Well!” Wade huffed as if offended. “I’m an ugly sum’bitch but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a soulmate! Even WEASEL has a soulmate, and if that guy is meant for love I KNOW I am.” 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He rolled his eyes. “I just meant because of your whole ‘regeneration’ thing. Wouldn’t the soulmate thing be ruined every time you died and came back?” 

“Huh.” Wade took a bite of his own food. “I didn’t think about that. Maybe I’m blessed with dozens of soulmates, get a new one every time I respawn.” 

“Respawn.” Peter repeated. “That’s gross. Anyway, maybe you have one soulmate and you’ve just been blipping in and out of their head for like two…years…” his voice trailed off as he realized something. “Um… Wade–” 

“Blipping in and out, huh?” Wade didn’t even notice Peter hesitating. “That would be annoying as shit. I sing constantly, all the time. Usually 80′s power ballads, no one bops like they do, but I’ve been on this real  _Titanic_ kick lately. Have you ever heard Celine Dion sing? Not only is she gorgeous and Canadian, but she’s got pipes that make me  _cream_.” 

“Um–” Peter thought he might choke. “Wade–” 

“Plus, she’s never aged! Not a day! She is just as gorgeous in Titanic as she is right now. Have you heard her sing the Titanic song?” without skipping a beat, Wade burst into song– “ _EEEEEEVERY NIGHT IN MY DREAMS! I SEE YOU! I FEEEEEEEL YOUUUUUUUU AND THAAAAAAT IS HOW I KNOW YOUUUUUU GO ONNNNNNNNNN!_ ”

Wade was practically shouting, and it was echoing with the voice in Peter’s head making him cringe and duck and scream, “WADE SHUT UP!” 

“WHAT!” Wade mock gasped. “How dare you shut up a tribute to our Canandian goddess, may she walk among us forever, that is just–” 

“ _Wade_!” Peter yelled again and the mercenary shut up. 

“What, Spidey. You’re sort of ruining my moment here.” 

Peter took a deep breath and started singing, “John Jacob Jinkleheimer Smith. His name is my name too. Whenever we go out, people always shout, there goes John Jacob Jinkleheimer Smith–” 

“ _DA DA DA DA DA DA DA!_ ” Wade finished with a cheer. “I love that song! I was singing it–” he hesitated. “All night last night. Because I was singing  _Titanic_ and then I heard that song and–” 

Peter waited for Wade to figure it out, and it took the big mercenary all of fifteen seconds. 

“Good Christ, Spidey, are you the song that’s been stuck in my head?” 

“I think so.” Peter tried not to smile, but it was hard not to when Wade pumped his fist in the air excitedly. “But Wade listen–” 

“I’m Spidey’s soulmate!” Wade whooped and grabbed him off the ground into a big hug. “I KNEW I’d get a chance to tap this booty! Spidey this is AMAZING!” 

“Wade!” Most of Peter wanted to hug Wade right back, but he had something more important to talk about first, so he used a quick burst of his spidey strength to push away. 

“What?” Wade made grabby hands at him. “Come on, what’s the problem? Come here and–” he stopped, frowned. “Oh, you don’t want me to be your soulmate? I could see that. Yeah, alright that’s fine, but we can still hang out right, because–” 

“Stop.” Peter  _fwipped_ a patch of webbing at Wade’s mouth. “Stop talking and listen to what I’m about to say very very closely.” 

Wade nodded, eyes narrowing when Peter stepped close and lifted the merc’s mask up and off his head so he could see him clearly.   

“Us being soulmates doesn’t mean you get to automatically tap this ass.” Peter said firmly and Wade made a wounded sort of noise. “Eventually, probably, because I wasn’t really opposed to it before now anyway. But that’s not the point.” 

He traced light fingers over the scars he had only seen once or twice before, careful not to press too hard because he knew they hurt Wade constantly, even if he never complained. 

“The point is–” he smiled and stood on his toes so their mouths were level, hooking a finger in the webbing and tearing it off easily. “The point it, Wade, whether you are my soulmate or not–” 

Wade wet his lips, leaned in to try and kiss him, but Peter shook his head. 

“Whether you are my soulmate or not, Wade? If you get that stupid song from  _Titanic_ stuck in my head one more time? I will throw you off a building, I swear to god.” 

“You’re so hot when you’re pretending to be violent.” Wade whispered. “I’ll sing something else. What’s your favorite song? Is it the spider man theme? Is it “Big Butts” oh god please say its “Big Butts” I will literally combust, I swear to–” 

“Wade.” Peter grinned. “I’m going to head back to my place to have a drink and try and figure out how I feel about this whole thing. Are you coming with me?” 

“Am I invited?” Wade asked hopefully, and when Peter only looked at him, Wade’s eyes flew open wide. “I MEAN YES! OH MY GOD I’M COMING WITH YOU. I’M COMING RIGHT NOW! I’M COMING RIGHT NOW!” 

“There it is.” Peter linked their fingers and started tugging Wade towards his place. “I knew you wanted to say that.” 

Wade followed behind him closely, squeezing at Peter’s hand excitedly, and humming under his breath, and Peter stopped in his tracks when  _The Wedding March_  filled his head. 

“Nope.” he shook his head. “Not the wedding march either. I don’t want that stuck in my head at all.” 

“How do you feel about ABBA?” 

“Ugh…” the web crawler sighed. “Alright, ABBA is fine.” 

“ _Honey honey, how you thrill me! Uh huh! Honey honey_!” 

“This is fine.” Peter started laughing when Wade scooped him up into his arms and took off running. “Oh god, I’m going to be singing 80s songs for the rest of my life.” 

“You’re damn right about that, baby boy.” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spideypool Wedding!

Wade stared at himself in the mirror and tried to shove down the nervousness that was threatening to make him sick. 

Peter would be  _pissed_ if he ruined this tux, it hadn’t been cheap to rent and it was pure white and starched and contrasted beautifully with the red and black striped tie that Wade had insisted on and this close to the ceremony, there was no time to get a spare and  _wow_ would Pete be upset if everything got held up because he had hurled on–

“Okay okay okay.” he put a hand to the mirror and forced himself to settle down, then flinched away from the sight of all his scars against the crisp white of the suit. 

_Damn he hated this._

He  _hated_ it, but Peter had gotten all teary eyed and sniffly when he’d seen Wade in the tux three months ago, running his hands over Wade’s shoulders and declaring that he would be “the most gorgeous groom ever, anyone who disagrees can fight me.” 

Wade had agreed to the white suit because he would do just about anything to make his Petey Pie smile but now– now when he had to walk down an aisle in front of about a hundred people on full display without a mask to hide behind, unable to make an inappropriate joke to ease the tension (Peter had been VERY STRICT about that)– now he was a little terrified. 

 _A lot_  terrified. 

Sick to his stomach, shaking in his boots, edging on a panic attack  _terrified_ , and he didn’t know what to–

“Knock knock.” The door to his room opened and Peter poked his head around. “Hey, future hubby, how are we doing!”

“ _Eeek_!” Wade screamed high and girlish and turned away to hide his face– and how he was feeling– in his hands. “You aren’t supposed to see me before the ceremony! It’s bad luck!” 

“We literally have the worst luck.” Peter grinned and stepped into the room with his hands behind his back, looking perfectly polished and put together in a fitted black tux, all that ridiculous hair perfectly combed back and tamed and presentable. “i don’t think me seeing you before the wedding is going to change that.” 

“Well we will never know now!” Wade huffed. “Get out of here!” 

“I brought you a present.” Peter handed Wade the package he’d been hiding behind his back. “I wanted to give it to you now.” 

“ _Oooh_!” Another girlish scream, this one of excitement, and Wade ripped the top off the box and reached in to grab–

–”My mask?” he stared down at the mask with a frown. “Pete, I mean, I’m touched I guess, but why–” 

“Hey.” Peter reached up, placed his palm on Wade’s cheek an looked deep into his eyes. “I know you hate this, baby, and I’m sorry I pushed you into it.” 

“What–what are you talking about?” 

“The wedding.” Peter gestured between them. “The tuxes and the church and all that. I know you don’t want to do this.” 

“I want to marry you!” Wade knew he sounded desperate, but he didn’t care. If Pete was going to call this off he didn’t know what he would do, how he would recover from having his heart broken this badly. “Pete, baby boy, no I want this more than anything. I want–” 

“Hush.” Peter leaned in to kiss him, slow and reassuring. “I want to marry you too, so badly, more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life. I can’t wait to be your husband, Wade.” 

“Then what–” 

“I just don’t want to do it like this.” Peter curled his hands into the lapels of Wade’s tux. “Not with you in a suit that you hate, not marching down the aisle to piano music– you don’t want this, and I want to marry you the way you want to get married. I want you to be as happy when we say _I do_  as I am.” 

“But I’m–” Wade cleared his throat, covered Peter’s hands with his own. “I mean, this is fine, Pete. You parents got married here and it means a lot for you to walk down the same aisle your ma did and–” 

“But we aren’t the same people as my parents. We don’t have a normal life, why should we have a normal wedding?”  

“So– so what, then? You want to post pone the wedding? Want to try again some other time?” Wade swallowed back the  _panic_ clawing at his throat. “You still want to do it, right? Eventually?” 

“Tonight.” Peter whispered, his eyes shining. “Let’s go to Vegas. You can wear your suit, and I can wear mine and no one will think twice about Spidey and Deadpool tying the knot in Vegas. We can get married, then get drunk and rent some ridiculous honeymoon suite and fuck up against the windows and–” 

“ _God_.” Wade grabbed him tight and crushed a kiss on his mouth. “Pete–”

“I don’t care where I walk down the aisle.” he murmured, wrapping his arms around Wade’s neck and holding him close. “As long you’re the one waiting at the other end.” 

“Vegas?” Wade asked as they parted for air. “In our suits?” 

“I’m going to wear my tux over mine.” Peter grinned. “I paid way too much for this to go to waste and I know you like my ass in dress pants.” 

“Hell yeah I do.” Wade grabbed two big handfuls of the aforementioned booty just to prove his point. “But um, about mine– I know you love me in this but–” 

“Oh right.” Peter pulled away, jogging to the door an retrieving another package. “This is for you too. For over your suit.” 

Wade opened it cautiously, his mouth dropping open as he pulled out a slinky white dress with a slit cut up to  _whoo!_  there and a plunging neckline. 

“Uh, Peter pumpkin, blushing virginal brides do  _not_ wear dresses with such a risque neckline.” he clicked his tongue in disapproval. “What kind of girl do you take me for?” 

“Not a blushing, virginal, bride, not after what I did to you last night.” Peter teased, and Wade held the dress up to his body, unable to hide his grin over the way the fabric fell so beautifully. “Do you like it? I’ve never picked out a wedding dress before and I wasn’t really–” he blushed. “I thought this one would look great on you.” 

“Over my suit, huh?” 

“Yeah.” Peter reached out and ran his finger over the white material. “And maybe when we get back to our hotel room, you could just wear the dress, huh? Nothing else needed? I think we could call that my wedding present, you know? Spend all night unwrapping it?”  

“ _Oh_.” Wade could have melted through the floor, always blown away by Peter’s complete acceptance of how much he loved dresses and silky things and the occasional high heel. “Pete, I–” 

“Come on.” Peter held out his hand. “Let’s go get married.” 

*****************

It wasn’t until they were in the air heading to Vegas, snuggled together in first class and watching New York disappear behind them that Wade gasped and cried, “oh no! Your Aunt May is going to  _kill_ us!” 

“Nah.” Peter settled more comfortably into his seat. “Who do you think helped me pick out your dress?” 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade wakes up pretty one morning (thanks to witchy shenanigans) and finally gets the courage to ask Peter out

The upside of hanging out with heroes vs killers was that Wade got to meet all sorts of interesting people, and most of them were even on the side of justice and freedom and puppies an all that, so that was fun. A nice step up from the usual uh– standard? of people that Wade usually ran in to. The good guys tended to shower, tended to smile a little more– it was a good gig for the most part. 

The downside of hanging out with heroes vs killers is that instead of just popping one in scary bad guys, they had to try and take them down non-lethally, which had ended up with all of them getting blasted with some sugar pink fairy dust from a not-scary-looking-at-all-but-super-moody-witch type person who had muttered something suspiciously curse like before dusting them all and Wade had crawled away from it all with a pounding headache and spitting up what was probably blood but since he was hallucinating it definitely looked like sparkles and that– ugh god he needed to sleep this one off and avoid any heroes for a few weeks. 

Any heroes except Spidey, of course, because not even magical witchy fairy dust would keep Wade away from his favorite web slinger. Nuh-uh. Almost a year now they’d been running patrol together, and just about nine months since they’d started this little flirty teasing dance-around-each-other thing, and only about four since they’d taken off their masks in front of each other and Wade had melted over how beautiful Spidey was and then melted all over again when the kid hadn’t even blinked over all his scars had just smiled that contagious smile and kept right on talking like everything was fine. 

No, Wade wouldn’t be staying away from Peter ever,  _at all_ , not if he could help it. It wasn’t like Peter didn’t know Wade was half in love with him, and Wade was pretty sure Pete was half in love with him but they’d never done anything about it– partly because of Wade’s insecurity issues, partly because you know… when did super hero types have time to  _date_??

Oh man, they should totally date, shouldn’t they? They were perfect together, fuck all this waiting stuff. 

Wade just needed to stop seeing sounds and hearing colors before calling Spidey, that was all. Then they were gonna date, oh hell yeah they were. 

He slept it off for about fourteen hours, passed out halfway on his bed and half off, probably drooling, definitely snoring and most likely terribly unattractive– but hey no one was there to see him–and when he woke up, he stumbled to the bathroom, and splashed some water on his face before looking in the mirror–

–And screaming bloody murder because _whomst the fuck_  was that hunk of yum staring back at him??

“I’m pretty.” Wade stared into the glass, at his clear skin and bright hazel eyes and thick hair and not so much as a  _pimple_ anywhere to be seen. “Holy schnitzel on a stick I’m  _pretty_.” 

He took a shower just to make sure he was awake, pinched himself entirely too hard to make sure it wasn’t a dream, and kept staring in the mirror. 

He was pretty. Like Ryan Reynolds level of hunky and wasn’t that just fairly amazing. 

Apparently there were benefits to inhaling witchy powder. 

Feeling confident for the first time in– forever– and not willing to waste even one second of pretty-time, Wade dove for his phone and fired off a text to Spidey:

 **From Wade** :  _Pete. Let me take you out on a date. We’ve been flirting and teasing and all that shit and its time for me to put my money where my mouth is. I want to take you out and feed you expensive food, then I want to take you to bed and wreck you about as sweetly as I can, and then want to make you pancakes in the morning, how does that sound?_

 **From Pete** :  _Little early to be drinking, don’t you think?_

**From Wade** _: Oh no, I’m totally sober, Pete. And I mean every word. What do you say?_

**From Pete** _: I like blueberries in my pancakes._

**From Wade** _: I’ll pick you up at eight._

_**********************_

The suit cost some ridiculous amount of money, but Wade didn’t care because he looked  _incredible_ in it– the fabric tailored to his body, the shirt underneath stretching over his arms and shoulders. He got to use gel ( _gel_!) in his hair  _(his hair_!!) and his pants were probably a size too tight but whatever, this was one night that he wanted to be stared at. 

Flowers from a vendor, probably too many flowers but hey, Peter was worth it, and Wade was standing outside the apartment building at five till eight, waiting for Peter impatiently, smirking when a woman walked by and blatantly checked him out. 

Oh he was messing with witches more often,  _HOLLA_. 

Peter came downstairs right at eight, glancing in Wade’s direction and then away, obviously scanning the street for what he  _thought_ Wade would look like.

“Pete.” Wade spoke up when the kid reached for his phone, presumably to text him. “Pete, I’m right here.” 

“Hm?” Peter glanced at him again, then came off to the steps to take a closer look. “Oh my god.  _Wade_?” 

“Hey.” Wade grinned, handing him the flowers. “Surprise.” 

“What– what?” Peter put the flowers down and rubbed his fingers on Wade’s face. “Are you wearing make up? What is this?” 

“Um witchy girl?” Wade caught Peter’s hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. “When she sprayed us with this crap it must have muted my whole– my whole issue. I woke up like this.” 

“You woke up like this.” Peter repeated, and finally  _finally_ , his eyes dropped to take in the fit of the suit over Wade’s body, the skin showing at the vee of his shirt, flicking up to look at his hair, and finally  _finally_ he smiled. “Um,  _wow_.” 

“You approve?” Wade said hopefully, and Peter nodded slowly. “So, the date still on?” 

“Oh hell yeah.” Those dark eyes sparked with something that made Wade’s breath catch. “Let’s go.” 

**********************

Dinner was easy and fun, laughing and talking over their food, lingering over their drinks. 

The waitress kept bending over in an obvious attempt to catch Wade’s attention and he certainly noticed it because you know– she wasn’t cringing away from him, which was the only reaction he’d gotten from  ~~women men~~ _anyone_ for years– but he only had eyes for Peter, who was talkative and funny and hot as hell, all smiles and not-subtle checking Wade out and every glass of wine that went down had their feet bumping a little more under the table, and Wade leaning further over the table because Peter’s voice was dropping soft and flirty, and several times Wade could have closed the distance between them and kissed those ridiculously pretty lips, but he held off until after they had left the restaurant. 

It was Peter then, who shoved him up against a wall and pinned him there with just a bit of his Spidey strength, weaving a hand through Wade’s hair and yanking him down for a bruising kiss, gasping, “I’ve waited so long to do this.” before kissing him again and again and again. “Jesus, Wade I thought you’d never ask me out.” 

“You could have asked me out.” Wade pointed out as they stumbled up the stairs to his apartment. “I’m a shy boy, Pete, I was nervous.” 

“There’s nothing shy about you.” Peter denied, ripping Wade’s shirt right off him and dragging his nails down his abdomen. “Oh god, Wade you are so hot.” 

“You’re one to talk, baby boy.” Wade fell back on the bed and dragged Peter with him. “Never seen nothing half as good as this ass, you feel me?” 

“Oh I  _feel_ you.” Peter rocked into him purposefully, and Wade groaned. “You still planning on wrecking me sweetly or you gonna let me wreck you first?” 

“Eek I’m in love!” Wade laughed as Peter crushed another kiss to his mouth. “This is the best night of my life.” 

*****************

Morning came entirely too soon, especially since round three had happened at sometime around three am and not even Wade’s more than impressive stamina had been up for another and they had curled up in each other’s arms and slept cuddled together until the sun came up, and once Wade shut the blinds and climbed back into bed, they slept until lunch time. 

He woke up to soft lips over his skin, a nibble at his neck, a tongue over his nipple, light fingers down his stomach and more determined touches in his below the belt region and Wade was smiling and shifting and murmuring for  _more_ before he even opened his eyes. 

He didn’t even know anything was wrong until Peter moved to straddle him, rubbing against him languidly and running his hands carefully over Wade’s bare scalp, breathing, “You up for round four, merc?” and Wade was ready to say “hell yes” but then he realized that Peter’s hands were on his  _head_ and not his  _hair_ , and that familiar ache that was the ever present  _sting_ of his mutation was back, hovering beneath his skin, and his  _skin_ was–

“ _Damn it_.” 

He didn’t have to open his eyes to know he was back to normal, back to  _scarred_ , and  _bald_ and–

“I love this part of you.” Peter’s teeth scraped over Wade’s hipbone, his nose rubbing into the deep vee of his hip. “It’s so sexy, its like a trail leading down to better things and–” 

“Pete.” Wade tugged at him. “Stop.” 

“But it’s my turn to top!” Peter laughed and pinched his thigh. “Don’t tell me you’re chickening out! What happened to that healing factor?” 

“Stop.” Wade said again, and sat up to push Peter off him. “Let me go put some clothes on.” 

“Wade.” Wade dodged the hand that reached for him and headed for the bathroom for his robe. “Wait, baby, what’s wrong?” 

“What’s wrong?” he tied the sash securely around his waist and started searching through his drawers for an extra mask. “I woke up like this, Pete, woke up ugly again. “Apparently the witchy powder only lasted twenty four hours so–” 

“What do you mean you woke up ugly?” Peter jumped of the bed and tried to put his arms around Wade’s waist. “You look the same as you always do.” 

“Yeah.” Wade kept his eyes averted, arms folded across his chest. “Exactly.” 

“Exactly.” Peter echoed. “So I don’t see what–” he stopped, understanding clearing his eyes. “Wade, did you only ask me out because you looked… because you looked different? Is that what last night was about?” 

“Sort of.” Wade mumbled. “Thought since I was pretty again you’d say yes.” 

“Because you were–” Peter shook his head. “I didn’t say yes because you were pretty. I said yes because I’ve been waiting  _months_ for you to ask me out on a date. I said yes because I’ve been waiting to get you naked for  _months_. It had nothing to do with any of–” a vague motion at Wade’s body. “–any of that.” 

“Well yeah, but–but I woke up great yesterday. And I woke up like  _this_ today. First time you’ve had to wake up to me and–” 

“And I obviously liked what I saw, because I was more than halfway to giving you a blowjob before you pushed me off.” Peter interrupted. “I thought you knew I didn’t care about any of this sort of thing, Wade, we’ve been maskless around each other enough, I figured you knew how I felt.” 

“You don’t mind?” Wade chewed at his lip anxiously. “Because I can try and find the witch again or figure out how to do this sort of thing permanently if that’s what you want.” 

“I want you to give me my turn to top.” Peter teased, pushing Wade’s robe off his shoulders and to the floor. “And then I want blueberries in my pancakes. And at some point we should take a shower because–”

He stopped talking when Wade kissed him, soft and slow and a little hesitant and a lot sweet, gathering him close and holding him tight. 

“Everything alright?” Peter whispered once Wade let him breathe again. “Hm?” 

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Wade pressed their foreheads together and sighed shakily. “It’s alright that I woke up like this?” 

“As long as you wake up like this all the other times I spend the night.” Peter promised. “Besides, you look like Ryan Reynolds the other way and he creeps me out. I prefer you looking like  _you_ , merc. No more witches and weird potions to change your looks.” 

“I’ll try my hardest, but honestly the Avengers hang out with weird people, so no promises.” 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt from @pumpkin-spidey for intersex!Peter finding love with Wade after so many people rejecting him. 
> 
> (Author’s note: Talks about sexual/gender identity can be very feels-heavy, but because this is Spideypool I tried for a lighter approach. I have a follow up part, a sexy times scene and depending on how everyone likes this one I might post it)

Wade didn’t  _mean_ to snort Mountain Dew out of his nose, and holy  _hell_ did it burn and he wouldn’t be smelling or tasting anything for a week, but that wasn’t important. 

What  _was_ important was that Peter’s eyes filled with tears and he started shoving away from the table, gathering his backpack and jacket and mumbling about  _having to go right now_. 

“Pete!” Wade coughed and wiped at his face as he tried to run after his boyfriend. “Pete! Wait come back!  _Pete_!” 

“Leave me alone.” Peter sniffed and kept right on walking. “I don’t know why I expected you to act like any less of an asshole than you usually do, but some how I’m still surprised.” 

“Pete, please.” Wade snagged his jacket, careful not to pull too hard, because last time he’d down that Peter had turned and clocked him right into a wall. “Just wait up a minute and let me try that again. I won’t react like such a dick this time, I swear, you just sort of–” he threw his hands up. “You just sort of surprised me is all.” 

“Yeah, well weirdly enough there isn’t really a non-surprising way to say something like that!” Peter snapped back. “Did you want me to give you a Power-point presentation and half an hour to absorb the information before quizzing you on it!?” 

“What?” Wade wrinkled his nose. “No, baby, no that’s not what I want. But when I said ‘Hey pumpkin cheeks, you should come over tonight and let me tap that ass’, don’t you think you could have done something besides stare at me for a minute before shouting ‘BUT I HAVE A VAGINA!’ and then bursting into tears!” 

“Well I–!” Peter started to shout again, but stopped in frustration. “Okay, I– yes. I didn’t have to shout that, I suppose.” 

“There are about a million ways we can have this conversation, Pete.” The merc said slowly. “Since it’s obviously one we need to have before clothes start coming off? And we’ve been together long enough you know we can talk about anything, but how about we don’t do it in the street, yeah?” 

“Alright.” Peter looked embarrassed, but still close to tears. “Can we go have coffee or something?” 

“Sure.” Wade hesitated, then leaned in and placed a very careful kiss on Peter’s mouth. “Is this alright? Or are you going to web my mouth shut?” 

“No.” he mumbled, and motioned Wade back. “Kiss me again so I’ll feel better.” 

“Okay.” Another very careful kiss. “Let’s go get some coffee?”

Peter didn’t tell Wade that he wanted the kiss because after this conversation, Wade probably wouldn’t want to kiss him anymore. 

No one ever did once they found out his secret.

************************

 **From Wade** :  _so are you going to sit there and stare into your coffee the entire time?_

 **From Peter** :  _why are you texting me? I’m literally sitting across from you_

 **From Wade** :  _Yeah, but that’s your third cup of coffee and you haven’t looked up once._

“Sorry.” Peter cleared his throat and put his phone down. “I’m sorry. I just hate having this talk.” 

“You say that like you’ve had to have it a million times.” Wade joked, or tried to joke, but it fell flat when Peter just looked at him. “You’ve had to have this talk a lot, haven’t you?” 

“More than I’d like, yes.” He cleared his throat again. “Listen, it’s like this–” 

“No wait,  _you_ listen.” Wade interrupted, shaking his head and trying not to react to the fear that filled Peter’s eyes. “Just um– just–” he reached for Peter’s hand, linking their fingers. “I love you, alright? We’ve been together like six months now, and we’ve handled all sorts of weird shit in our superhero lives and we’ve been taking it slow in our relationship and that’s fine. Its fine, and I love you. So whatever this is? it’s gonna be just fine, too. Stop looking like you’re going to run away or have a panic attack because I can promise that it’s gonna be alright.” 

“I love you too.” Finally a smile, just the slightest hint of one around the corners of his mouth. “Thank you.” 

Wade squeezed at his hand and motioned for Peter to continue. 

“So its like this.” Peter looked down at his coffee and then out the window. “Do you know what intersex means?” 

“I’ve seen… porn…” Wade hedged. “But I don’t think intersex was the word they used?” 

“No, I’m sure it’s not.” Peter ventured a glance at his boyfriend, bracing himself for disgust or maybe that weird, morbid sort of curiosity that others had given him, but Wade’s expression was open and calm and encouraging, and more importantly, he hadn’t stopped holding Peter’s hand and that gave him the strength to continue. 

“So I was born with both sets of–” a vague motion over his lap and Wade nodded. “But my parents didn’t let the doctor, you know,  _forcefully_ make me one or the other, and Aunt May and Uncle Ben let me choose which to identify as when I hit puberty and sort of figured out what it all meant.” 

“So you’re…” Wade bit his lip. “Both? What’s the word, non binary? Are you non-binary? Is that what non binary means? Whats the other word, genderqueer? I’m just throwing words out here, Pete, tell me if I land on the right one. Are you–”

“I’m a  _man_ , Wade.” he said patiently. “I just have some extra…gear. And I’m bisexual, because as a man, I like other men and I like women too. That’s all there is to it. I don’t identify as– an anything else? I don’t have a fancy term or anything. As far as the worlds concerned, I’m a bisexual guy, but since you want to be–” a blush– ” _intimate_? You need to know that technically I’m–I’m intersex. And that means I’m–”

“A guy with some extra plumbing.” Wade cut in with another nod. “And this is… this is a big deal?” 

“It’s a big deal to alot of people.” Peter said hesitantly. “A big enough deal that I’ve never been able to keep a relationship with a guy or a girl without feeling like a freak, or a fetish.” 

“That ain’t right, baby.” Wade muttered, having had his own share of time feeling like a freak in a relationship. “M’sorry you had to deal with that.” 

“Normal people aren’t as understanding as they think they are.” Miserably, ducking his head. “And I hoped that when the spider got me maybe I’d grow into one or the other? But I  _didn’t_ , so now its just this big secret and it feels like its going to ruin every relationship I have before I get the chance to have it.” 

“I think we can both agree that  _normal_ is a fairly relative term.” Wade grinned. “Especially when our  _normal_ includes hanging out with the Avengers and blind lawyers and villains with names like Venom and–” He stopped, cocked his head. “When you had  _Venom_ –” 

“It was the closest I felt to being just me.” Peter finished. “He was able to sort of morph my body so I could feel–”

“Don’t say normal.” Wade whispered. “ _Fuck_ normal, Pete. Every inch of you is gorgeous, who cares about normal. Isn’t that what you always tell me?” 

“That is what I tell you.” Peter smiled. “But its not the same–”

“No?” Wade challenged. “Because I have to walk around looking unnormal every damn second of my day. You can hide yours until you try to get close to someone, and since I’m the last person who’s ever going to see you naked, this is the last time it will matter, right?”

“You think you’re the last person that who’s going to see me naked?” Peter repeated. “You seem awful confident about that.” 

“I  _am_ awful confident about it.” Wade lifted his dainty espresso cup and took a tiny sip. “And once I can spend some time getting to know  _all of you_ , I’ll be even  _more_ confident about it.” 

“I’m a  _guy_ , Wade.” Peter said then, uncertainly,  _meaningfully_. “So if we go to bed together–”

“When.”

“– _when_ we go to bed together, I need you to treat me like a  _guy_.” 

“What else would I treat you like?” 

“Sometimes–” he turned bright red. “Sometimes I’ve had partners try to treat me like a girl, or talk to me like I’m a girl? Say I’ve got a pretty–” he shook his head. “Don’t do that.” 

“Baby boy, I’m sure every inch of you  _is_ pretty.” Wade said nonchalantly, and when Peter looked up, he added, “And I’m super stoked to get my hands on Spider- _man_ , you feel me? If I wanted Spider- _Gwen_ I’d move to a different universe.” 

“I don’t understand that reference.” 

“I didn’t really expect you to.” Wade grinned and straightened up in his chair. “Pete, listen, here’s where I’m at with all of this. I don’t care what you’re packing or not packing, what your plumbing is like, what pronouns you want me to use– I don’t care about any of that. You tell me how to handle that, and I’ll listen. What I care about is that  _you’re_ the one I’m falling into bed with.” 

He waited a beat and then, “Or not falling into bed with? If sex isn’t really your thing. We can work with that. Point is,  _you’re_  who I care about and your packaging is…” he waved his hand airily. “Details?”

“My packaging?” 

“Yeah.” Another sip at that ridiculously tiny cup. “Pete the first time we kissed, I told you that my skin was a train wreck–”

“You said it looked like an avocado hate-fucked an old man–”

“Right. That’s what I said. Anyway, I said  _that_ and you looked me right in the mask and told me that I could look like Hugh Jackman and you’d still want to kiss me and that’s a big deal to me, that I could look like that hairy motherfucker and you’d still want to pucker up? You said it was about kissing  _me_ , and I’m trying to tell you that I feel the same way about you. I love you, and I don’t care about anything else.” 

“Because all of you loves all of me?” 

“Right. That’s our song, right? All of me loves all of you, just like all of you loves all of me. Every inch. Right down to the stuff ‘normal’ people would think is weird.” 

“Okay.” Peter finished his coffee. “Okay then.” 

“Okay what?” 

“Okay let’s go to bed.” He peeked up at Wade through his lashes. “Unless of course, you’ve changed your mind?” 

“Right.” the merc snorted. “The day I change my mind about that is the day they put me in my grave, babe. But since we started this conversation with you crying, I need to make sure that you are completely–”

“I’m fine.” Peter squeezed Wade’s hand tight. “I’m fine now. I’ve just been stressing about it for days and didn’t know how to tell you and everything just sort of…. just sort of exploded. I’m fine now, though. I don’t know why I thought you wouldn’t be understanding about this–”

“Because I’m usually an asshole about everything–”

“–well yeah, yeah you are but–” 

“I love you, Pete.” Wade leaned over and kissed him long and slow. “Every inch of you, even the ones I don’t know yet.” 

“I love every inch of you too.” Peter’s eyes were full of tears again, but this time they were happy. “Even the ones I don’t know yet.” 

“Yeah well I got about eight inches you’re  _really_ gonna like, sugar snack.” 

“There’s the charm.” Peter sighed in mock exasperation, following Wade out the door. 

“You know who I was when you said yes to our first date, Pete! You can’t back out on me now!”

*********************

[(THIS HAS A CHAPTER TWO NOW!!!)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16907223)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on @ceealaina prompt: they work in an office-type place but are prohibited from dating?? Cue sneaking around and pretending to barely know each other shenanigans.

“Parker.” J. Jonah Jameson didn’t so much knock at Peter’s office door as he did kick the door as he barged his way through, and Peter looked up from his desk with a long suffering sigh and a hopefully benign smile. 

“Mr. Jameson. What can I do for you?” 

“Want to introduce you to your new camera man. Now that you’re a big shot on air reporter you need someone who will put up with your bullshit so here you go.” He motioned someone through the door. “This is Wade William Wilson–”

“Winston.”

“Winston William Wilson–”

“No its Wade but–”

“Wade Winston William Wilson–” 

“No its just–”

“THIS IS MR. WILSON!” Jameson said louder. “He is your new camera man. Wilson, this is Peter Parker, used to take those terrible shots of Spider-man, somehow got promoted to full time reporter, you will be following him around and filming the things he tells you to film, got it?” 

“Uh–”

“Good.” The door slammed behind the cranky editor as he left, and Wade offered a sheepish wave to the gorgeous brunette behind the desk. 

“Mr. Parker. Real pleasure to meet you.” 

“Wade Wilson.” Peter loosened his tie and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Tell me something, when I told you that it was high time you quit murdering people for money and got a respectable job so I didn’t have to tell people that my boyfriend worked _violent security_ , I didn’t mean get a job where I work.” 

“Okay but to be fair?” Wade hopped onto Peter’s desk and peered down at his laptop. “You didn’t say  _not_ to get a job where you work, either. And I didn’t expect the editor to make me a camera man? I thought I’d be delivering mail.”

“Then how did you end up my camera man?” 

“Uh the guy with the buzz cut yelled a bunch of stuff about the last camera man? Then whipped around all dramatic and shit and asked if I could point and shoot? I said yes because you know- guns? But he thought I meant a camera and here I am.” 

“Are you wearing make up?” Peter brushed his thumb over Wade’s jaw. “Wow, a  _lot_ of make up.” 

“It takes a lot of make up to even this mug out, baby boy.” Wade dug through the jar of M&Ms noisily. “And I can’t exactly work for a newspaper looking how I usually do.” 

“Alright, the biggest problem with this?” Peter jabbed his boyfriend in the butt until Wade yelped and jumped off his desk. “Is that employees aren’t allowed to date. And since  _you_ didn’t disclose the fact that we have been dating for almost a year already, no one can know that we are dating, otherwise we could both be fired for violating company policy or lying to the boss about it or whatever.”

“Wait, we aren’t allowed to date?” 

“Its frowned upon.” Peter sighed. “Nobody really enforces it, but there’s always a chance. And if we are going to be working together all the time with you being my camera man? We  _really_ can’t be dating, alright? Work friends. Nothing more.”

“So I have to pretend like I don’t spend most evening rawing you into the–”

“If you finish that sentence,  _I_  will fire you.” Peter said firmly, and Wade made a zipping motion over his lips. “And yes, at least until you’ve established yourself as a decent employee and Jameson is happy with you, it will be easier if we act like we aren’t dating, alright? Work friends.”

“Fine.” Wade shrugged. “Work friends. How difficult can it be to pretend like I don’t know you inside and out and six ways to Sunday?”

**********************

Turns out it was  _very_ difficult for Wade to act like he didn’t know Peter, especially when Peter was just  _so_ popular around the office.

“Parker!” Eddie Brock walked by and bumped shoulders with Peter playfully. “Love that suit on you, what is that, Armani?” 

“JC Penney.” Peter said blandly. “And its the same one I wore on Monday.” 

“I loved it on you then, too.” Eddie winked and Peter rolled his eyes and laughed and Wade briefly considered stabbing Eddie in the leg when he walked by because he didn’t like the guy just based on Pete’s stories about him but he was much worse in person. 

“Work friends don’t stab other work friends.” Peter mumbled around his coffee and Wade put the knife away. “Thank you.” 

***********************

“Yoo-hoo! Mr. Wilson!” Debbie from accounting, sweet and matronly and made the best brownies Wade had ever had in his life. “Oh Mr. Wilson, you poor thing, did your wife let you out the door with your shirt inside out!” 

She reached up and tugged at Wade’s collar, clicking her tongue. “My goodness!” 

“Oh, I’m not married, Debbie.” Wade said with a grin, and just to make the woman blush, he whipped off his button down (and made sure his entirely too tight long sleeve was covering his skin) and turned it right side in before putting it back on. “But if by some miracle you haven’t been snatched up…?” 

“Oh Mr. Wilson!” Debbie snorted when she laughed and it was  _hilarious. “_ You’re going to make me blush! Keep your clothes on! I don’t want a ruffian like you!” 

“You wound me, Debbie!” he called after her, and in his office, Peter rolled his eyes hard enough to give himself a headache.

************************

The shelf in the supply closet on the third floor cracked when Wade shoved Peter into it, but neither one of them cared at the moment– not Wade, who had his hands down Peter’s pants grabbing big handfuls of  _dat ass_  that looked impossibly good in these particular dress pants, and not Peter who was gasping something desperate and anxious and trying his damnedest to leave a rather impressive hickey on Wade’s neck as a calloused palm closed around his dick and he started seeing  _stars_. 

“We can’t do this here!” he hissed when Wade went to his knees in front of him. “Wade– _oh fuck_ – if we get caught–  _shitshitshit_ – I will lose my job!” 

“Stop talking and we won’t get caught!” Wade retorted and yanked Peter’s pants down to his ankles. “And they say I’m the one who never shuts up!” 

Peter broke the shelf when he came, and office supplies went everywhere. Wade laughed as pencils and paperclips rained down on him, but Peter fussed about his hair and how Wade should have swallowed better and ugh how was he ever going to explain this if anyone asked??

“We better hope no one asks.” Wade teased and jumped up to crush their mouths together. “By the way? Sneaky blowjobs at work? Definitely a top five on my list. Next time let’s do it in your office.” 

“Get off me.” Peter kissed him longingly, and shoved him out the door. “I have real work to do.” 

“Back to work friends?” 

“You know it.” 

***************************

It was more difficult to hide it when they were out on assignment, with Wade being naturally obnoxious and Peter being naturally cuddly. 

Lunch breaks after doing a news piece and Wade would automatically reach for Peter’s hand only to have it smacked away, or Peter would stand on his toes for a kiss and Wade would clear his throat super loud to remind him that they were in public, on the company’s time and now was definitely  _not_ the place to teasingly ask Wade to lick the dressing off his lips. 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Wade pouted, using the floor length table cloth at the restaurant as an excuse to rub his foot up and down Peter’s leg. “Let’s just tell everybody, I’m tired of not being able to touch you when I want.” 

“Okay but like, you couldn’t touch me whenever you wanted even if we  _did_ tell everyone.” Peter pointed out. “There’s still all sorts of rules on physical displays of affection, and if we were openly dating it would probably be even more strict, you know? Even just patting me on the back would be seen as sexual, where as right now its just friendly.”

“That is bull shit.” Wade dug into his burger with a grumble. “If the money wasn’t so good, I’d quit just so I can grope you on the regular again.” 

“Sorry, baby.” Peter whispered. “But this job is super important to me. I’ve worked half my life to have an office at the Daily Bugle.” 

“I know.” Wade kicked at his foot. “I know. I won’t screw it up for you. I’ll keep my hands to myself.” 

“I love you.” Peter blew him a kiss, and Wade grumbled some more.

*****************************

“Peter.” Gwen knocked on his office door and Peter looked up with a smile. “Do you have a minute?” 

“Yeah, Gwen.” Peter motioned his friend-turned-colleague in. “What’s going on?” 

“So this is awkward.” She perched on the edge of one of the chairs. “But I wanted to talk to you about your new camera man? Wade?”

 _Oh no_. “Sure!” he said brightly. “What’s going on?” 

“Well.” Gwen chewed at her lip anxiously. “I saw him smack you on the butt the other day and you looked pretty upset about it, and I’m sure it’s weird for you to talk about it if you are being harassed but–”

 _Oh no_. “Gwen.” Peter tried to interrupt. “No, it’s not–”

“Just because you’re Spider-man–” she lowered her voice. “–Doesn’t mean that sometimes you don’t feel helpless. I just want you to know that if he’s making you feel uncomfortable, then I am wiling to write something up for HR or–”

“Gwen.” Peter came around his desk to give her a big hug. “I love you very much, and you’re very sweet for being willing to support me but um– its not what you think.”

“I know what I saw, Pete!” she insisted.

“No, you definitely saw it.” He sighed. “Alright, so along the same lines of me being Spider-man? Wade is um– that’s Deadpool.” 

“Deadpool.” she repeated blankly. “The  _mercenary_? That one that helped you save all those kids last month and then got blasted by Tony for saying something stupid?” 

“Uh yep.” 

“The mercenary that Spider-man has been  _hooking up with_?” She sighed. “Oh Pete.” 

“We didn’t think we’d end up working together.” Peter admitted. “And its sort of difficult to hide the whole hero personality as well as the relationship thing so–”

“Oh Pete.” She sighed again. “Alright well, I’m relieved that nothing else is going on? But tell him to be more discreet! You guys are going to get in trouble!”

“Working on it.” he hugged her one more time. “I’ll tell him you said hi.” 

“…Wonderful.”

*******************

It started taking a toll on their personal life, having to hide all the time, and when Peter pulled away from a kiss on the street for the fourth or fifth time that week, Wade finally said something. 

“This is bullshit, Pete. I can’t kiss you when we work, can’t kiss you when we’re off work–”

“Sorry!” Peter cried, yanking away and tugging at his hair in frustration. “I’m sorry! I’m just paranoid now! I’m paranoid that someone’s going to see us together even outside of work and if it gets back to Jameson that I’m fucking my camera-man–”

“You haven’t dragged me to bed in like four days.” Wade scoffed. “We’re practically divorced!” 

“You’re so dramatic.” Peter grinned. “We’re not divorced Wade, most couples go a few days in between sex.”

“We don’t.” he denied. “We’ve gone like, four hours? But this last month has been hardly anything and I swear I’m going to go back to killing people as a job if that’s what it takes to get me laid again.” 

“Dramatic.” Peter said again. “But I love you so it’s fine.” 

“I love you too.” Wade reached out and tugged at Peter’s pants pocket. “But if I have to keep going eight and nine hours days around you without being able to hold you I’m going to lose my mind.” 

“Just try for me.” Peter begged. 

“I’ll try for you, Pete.”

************************

Another few weeks went by, and Wade kept trying– keeping his hands to himself, his smiles professional and demeanor aloof, and it started working so well that unless they were on a job together, they could go most of the day without talking at all. 

Jameson was thrilled with them as team– or as thrilled as he could be, which was sort of baring his teeth and grinning around an oversized cigar and occasionally snapping his suspenders with glee– and no one thought to look twice at Peter and Wade and there hadn’t been a closet mysteriously destroyed in close to a month, and all was well. 

Or all would have been well, but Peter missed Wade something  _fierce_ and as the days rolled on and Wade made more and more of an effort to blend in perfectly, Peter started hating it. 

He hadn’t fallen in love with a perfectly well behaved camera man, right? He’d fallen in love with a trash talking, inappropriately grabby loud mouthed merc and the longer Wade wore make up over his scars and a tie with a button up and chatted with Debbie, the less he resembled Peter’s boyfriend and the more he resembled a work friend and Peter… Peter sort of hated it.

So when Wade came in with a polite wave and holding their itinerary for the day– the President was in New York so it was a big deal– Peter jumped right over his desk, webbed his door shut and grabbed Wade into a long, messy kiss. 

“Mr. Parker.” Wade laughed a little and tried to extricate himself. “I don’t know what kind of camera man you think I am but–”

“Shut up and kiss me.” Peter yanked him back down and crushed their mouths together. “I miss you and I’m tired of it.” 

“But what about–?” 

“ _Mmmmm_.” Another kiss, Peter pulling them towards his desk. “If we get fired we can always go work for the Avengers. Tony’s been after me to work with SI on the tech end of things and he probably pays better than cranky ass Jameson.” 

“Peter.” Wade was trying not to smile. “Are you asking me to be more than just your work friend?” 

“I’m telling you–” Peter ripped Wade’s tie off and then his shirt. “That we should definitely fuck on my desk, because sneaky blowjobs might be on your list, but sex in my office is on mine so–”

“Say no more.” Wade waggled his drawn on eyebrows. “I’m way ahead of you.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade proposes to Spidey mid-blowjob and Peter is not amused.

“What did you just say?” Peter sat up and stared at Wade. “What did you  _just_ say?” 

“I don’t know, Pete.” Wade wove his fingers into Peter’s dark hair and tried to push his head back down. “Whatever it was probably wasn’t important enough for you to stop doing that thing with your tongue though? So why don’t we get back to–”

“No no.” Peter pulled all the way away and wiped at his mouth, effectively putting an end to what had been a fairly spectacular blowjob, and pinned his boyfriend with a glare. “You just asked me to marry you.”

“Did I?” Wade frowned and mentally ran over everything he had been saying for the several minutes Peter had been working at his below the belt region. “I said that your mouth should be insured because it’s so good. I said it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever if you put your finger somewhere interesting, and then I said–” his expression cleared. “Oh yeah. I said we should get married.” 

“And you wanted to know if that was something I was interested in.” Peter finished. “You asked me to marry you while I had your dick in my mouth.” 

“Well, uh–” 

“Wade!” Peter threw his hands in the air. “You can’t just ask things like that mid-blow job?!” 

“Why not!” Wade defended. “It was a valid question, right? The least you could do is answer it!” 

“I’m leaving.” Peter got to his feet and zipped his own pants back up. “That was the worst proposal ever.”

“Wait!” the merc started laughing. “Wait, Pete are you really mad about it? Come on! Don’t be like that! You know you want to say yes!” 

“Good bye Wade!” 

“Pete!” he called after him. “Pete! Was it hard to say yes because you can’t talk around my dick? Pete?” 

The door slammed behind Peter and Wade shouted louder, “WAS IT HARD TO SAY YES BECAUSE YOU CAN’T TALK AROUND MY DICK?! PETE?!?!

**********************

**********************

It was a whole week before Wade say Peter again, but when Wednesday night rolled around, Peter was letting himself into Wade’s apartment for their weekly scheduled hook up. 

“Oh hey!” Wade stopped halfway to shoving a handful of skittles into his mouth. “Hey, I haven’t been able to get ahold of you all week!” 

“That’s because I’ve been screening my calls and avoiding our usual hangouts all week.” Peter replied flatly. 

“Aw Petey-pie–”

“Wade!” Peter folded his arms and for the first time, Wade realized how upset he actually was. “You are not allowed to joke about that, do you understand? Proposals and marriage and all that? You aren’t allowed to joke about that!” 

“Pete–”

“WE HAVEN’T EVEN SAID I LOVE YOU YET!” 

“Oh.” Wade blinked at him. “Well, I love you. I figured you knew that.” 

“Well I–” Peter huffed a little. “That doesn’t count. You can’t say it for the first time when I’m mad at you, and you certainly can’t propose when I’m trying to make you come.” 

“For the record? If you would said yes?” Wade snapped his fingers. “I would’a come like that.” 

Peter just glared and Wade cleared his throat nervsously. “Also for the record? I wasn’t joking. I was pretty fucking serious even though in retrospect I am willing to admit that maybe it wasn’t the best way to go about asking you that particular question.” 

“Yeah no shit.” Peter muttered, kicking at the carpet. “Not the best way at all.” 

“Okay well….” Wade started inching towards his boyfriend. “So tell me about your perfect proposal.” 

“I’m not playing this game.” Wearily, Peter running his fingers through his hair. “I’m exhausted and I wanted to come over and make up with you but it turns out I’m still pretty pissed so I’m going to leave. I’ll see you around, Pool.” 

“Hey.” Wade grabbed his hand. “Pete, tell me about your perfect proposal.” 

Peter watched him warily for a minute and then started counting off on his fingers. “I would want to be swept off my feet with some grand gesture. My favorite restaurant with a table that looked out over the city with a view of the moon. Something other than dub-step playing in the background, and at no point during the proposal should either of our dicks be out.” 

“Alright then.” Wade flashed him a thumbs up. “I’ll make it happen.” 

“This isn’t a joke, Wade.”

“I have never been more serious about anything in my life.” 

Peter watched him for another minute, narrowing his eyes and waiting for the obnoxious merc to ruin the moment, but Wade just met his gaze steadily, earnestly, and finally Peter sighed. 

“It’s my turn to top.” 

“Yay!” Wade started ripping his clothes off and running towards the bedroom and Peter finally grinned and followed him back. 

“For the record,” he called. “I love you too!” 

“Aw shit baby boy.” Wade was already naked, spread eagle on the bed. “I done knew that already.”

***********************

***********************

Peter hated exactly two things in life– to be surprised in any way, because he tended to scream and jump and stick to the nearest wall, and to be grabbed and yanked anywhere, whether it was for kiss or to avoid a car or anything, because his reaction was usually to chuck whoever grabbed him several feet away. 

Spidey was just a jumpy sort of guy, and Wade had learned to dial back his habit of jumping out of dark spaces and trying to scare him because it only ever ended up with one hysterically laughing mercenary flying through the air and one very pissed off spider ignoring him for a week. 

But tonight, all bets were off so Wade took full advantage of the fact that he  _never_ set off Peter’s Spidey sense and snatched the wall crawler right off the street. 

Peter didn’t quite know what happened. 

One minute he was walking along munching on some pretzels, headed home after a day at the Bugle, and the next– with no warning what-so-ever from his Spidey-radar– he had been yanked into an alley and chloroformed until he passed out, his last thought being that the chloroform rag also smelled like Mexican food and that was sort of weird. 

He came to in a chair sat on a rooftop, most of the city laid out below him, and still nothing from his Spidey-sense. 

“Um–” he glanced down to see no ropes or anything around his body– not that it would do much good to tie him up- and to his left, a table set up with candles and silverware and fancy glassware, a deep fried chimichanga on one plate, a pile of enchilada’s on the other. 

“ _What_?” 

Next, a door that he hadn’t noticed yet opened and a four musicians filed out, arranging themselves in a corner of the roof and starting to play quietly and Peter sighed when he finally figured it out. 

“When I said I wanted to be swept off my feet–” he stood up when Wade walked towards him wearing a tux over his usual red and black suit. “– I didn’t mean I wanted to be gassed and kidnapped.” 

“Potato po-tah-toe.” Wade shrugged and grinned. “But hey. You were swept off your feet, I got food from our favorite Mexican take out place, this is your favorite roof–”

“My favorite roof?” Peter interrupted. “How do you figure?” 

“Because this is the roof we were on when we decided to start working together.” He explained. “I suggested we do something together, you said I could go along with patrol, I said I mean something naked and you said–”

“In your dreams, Pool.” Peter finished. “That was like two years ago.” 

“And I remember it perfectly.”  Wade bent and kissed him. “So we’ve got the sweeping off your feet thing, the food, the view of the city, a string quartet instead of dub-step, and at the moment we are both completely clothed, so what do you say?” 

He dropped to one knee and opened a small box, a band of diamonds catching the moonlight and sparkling dramatically. “Marry me?” 

“You got me diamonds?” Peter’s mouth fell open. “Are you–”

“Yeah, you didn’t say what kind of ring you wanted when you talked about the perfect proposal, but as Ms. Monroe would say, diamonds are a Spider’s best friend so–”

“I think the line is  _diamonds are a **girls** best friend_, Wade.” 

“Girls, Spiders, whatever.” he held the ring up higher. “So what do you say?” 

“Oh my god.” Peter started laughing. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you.” 

“Yay for us.” Wade slid the ring on Peter’s fourth finger, then kissed his knuckles. “But also, would it be ruining the moment if I mentioned that I’m on my knees and your zipper is eye level so we should–”

“Yes.” Peter said firmly. “Yes it would ruin the moment.” 

“I won’t say it then.” Wade jumped to his feet and smothered Peter in a long kiss. “Was this the proposal you imagined?” 

“Not even close.” Peter tugged him back for a sweeter kiss. “But it was still the best proposal ever.” 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the one where Peter purposefully misunderstands Wade's innuendo

Based on [THIS POST](https://not-close-to-straight.tumblr.com/post/178685716888/ceealaina-creaturexlll-when-i-said-that-your)

*********************

“You got great legs, Spidey, you know that?” Wade cocked his head and whistled loudly when he saw his favorite spandex wearer stretched out on the couch in his apartment. “I mean just  _great_ gams.” 

“I’m pretty aware, yeah.” Peter shrugged off the  _leer_ Wade was sending his way. “Did you get food? It’s like ten pm and I’m starving.” 

“I got food, but also let’s talk about me being a huge fan of you climbing through my window and sleeping on my couch anytime you want.” Wade winged a sandwich nowhere in the general direction of the couch, grinning when Peter  _thwipped_ a web at it and snatched it mid air. “I’m so glad we got past all that ‘ _oh ew Deadpool is creepy because he stares at my ass_ ’ phase of our relationship and moved right to the ‘ _I’m sleeping on his couch but really I want to be in his bed’ phase_.” 

“Okay.” Peter tore open the sandwich and took a big bite. “First of all, I’m on your couch because I’m broke and starving and you feed me without judging me for eating so much. Second of all, I never  _really_ thought you were creepy, otherwise I wouldn’t be here  _ever._ You’re just uniquely…you… and I’ve never had a problem with it.” 

“And while we’re on the subject–” another big bite. “We’ve barely managed unmasking around each other, what makes you think we’re ready for the sharing a bed phase? That seems a little–”

“Your legs would look damn good sitting on my shoulders, Spidey.” Wade interrupted. “Ya feel me? We should stop pretending that isn’t where all this adorable flirting is going and come right out and say it.”

He pointed at Peter. “Your legs.” pointed at himself. “My shoulders.” A vague yet crude motion between their bodies. “Think about it.”  

“Uh–” Peter’s mouth fell open. “Are you– I mean, are you  _serious_?” 

“Sure as shit.” Wade lifted his mask to his nose so he could eat too. “All joking and inappropriate but hilarious things I say aside– whenever you’re ready to take that step you let me know, because I’ve been ready to tap dat ass for like eighty years.” 

“You’ve known me for eight months.” 

“I stand by what I said.” 

Silence in the room, Peter chewing at his sandwich thoughtfully, Wade fully expecting to be webbed to the wall while Spidey escaped like the last time he had suggested a naked activity, but instead–

“Alright then.” Peter nodded slowly. “Alright. I’ll… I’ll let you know when I’m ready for that.”

“Really?!” Wade’s (non-existent) eyebrows flew up towards his (also non existent) hairline. “You’re serious? You’re not going to web me to the wall? Not going to abandon me and be all awkward for a week? You’re  _serious_?”  

“Yes I’m serious.” Peter smiled, slow and easy and  _interesting_ enough to make Wade’s blood pressure triple. “In fact, if you wanted to do something like that right now? I feel like I’d be fine with that. I mean, it’s late. I’m probably going to spend the night anyway just so I’m not webbing home in the dark, seems like that might be dangerous, might be safer for me to stay with my friendly neighborhood mercenary, right?”

“Uh yep.” Wade nodded as fast as he could. “So dangerous for you to be webbing home. Definitely better to stay here with me. Is this really happening?” 

“If you want it to.” 

The big merc probably should have choked on the amount of sandwich he swallowed, but he coughed through it and grabbed at Peter’s hand. “Spidey, Peter. Peter Pumpkin Pie. Snickerdoodle Lemon puss–”

“Do not  _ever_ call me Lemon Puss.” Peter warned. 

“Lemon Snack–” Wade didn’t miss a beat. “Light of my world, are you being serious right now? Because I figured it would be at least another six months before we even got to the point where you even were thinking about  _maybe_ undoing the top button of those ridiculous polos you wear. But you think maybe we could–”

“Wade.” Peter leaned in and covered Wade’s mouth with his hand, eyes earnest and smile soft as he said, “Your TV’s broken, but I have my computer. So I’ll put on something to set the mood, why don’t you get some pillows and get comfortable and uh–” a beat of silence that was quite possibly the most tense three seconds of Wade’s life. “– maybe we will see how things go?” 

“ _Eeep_.” Wade made a high, squeaky noise and Peter scrunched that adorable nose at him before heading for his backpack. 

There was a flurry of movement behind him, a lamp knocked over, various guns and knives being shoved out of the way, pillows snatched from the other chairs and spread around the floor and clothes flung every which way as Wade stripped rather impressively fast to his boxers. 

“Um–” Peter’s eyes flew open wide when he turned around, laptop in hand, to see the change in the room. “I had my back turned for like, fifteen seconds.” 

“Yeah well I’m speedy when it counts.” Wade said all in a rush, and then, “But not when I’m supposed to be slow, don’t worry. I’m not a one trick pony or a wham bam thank you Spidey or a hit it and quit it or quick shot or minute man or–” Peter’s jaw dropped and Wade his hands up apologetically. “I do this thing where I talk alot–”

“All the time?” 

“–when I’m nervous.” He finished. “Most people don’t notice it, actually, since usually I am the picture of composure–”

“Wade.”

“–But I gotta say I’m not feeling super composed right now, and what I’m trying to say is that–”

“I can keep my legs on your shoulders for as long as it takes?” Peter cut in. “Is that what you’re trying to say?” 

“We are so obviously soulmates.” Wade sent him a heart with his fingers. “That’s exactly what I’m trying to say. Your legs. My Shoulders. As long as it takes.” 

“That’s exactly what I wanted you to say.” Peter pointed to the floor. “Do you mind?” 

“Spidey wants me on the floor?” Wade dropped in a second. “Not a problem.” 

“Can you turn around?” Peter plucked at the hem of his shirt and smiled uncertainly. “Sorry, but–” 

“Hey, you’re shy.” Wade turned around obediently. “Frankly, that’s fucking adorable. Spidey is shy. Who would have known? For a guy who runs around in leaves-nothing-to-the-imagination spandex, it is hilariously cute that you’re– _ooph_!” 

Wade huffed in surprise when two surprisingly muscled calves landed on his shoulders, one on either side. “Uh, Spidey?” 

“This is great, thanks. My recliner at home broke and I’m so tired of having to do my homework with my feet on the floor, who does that?” Peter slumped more comfortably on the floor, opening his lap top to his thesis page. “And if I do homework on my couch I just fall asleep, so honestly thank you. Not only is this stretching my legs, but making sure I get lots of things done. You’re such a good friend, Wade.” 

“Um-” Wade glanced over his shoulder to see Pete typing away at his computer. “Pete, when I said your legs would look good on my shoulders, this isn’t  _exactly_ what I meant.” 

“Oh?” Peter webbed a soda over from the kitchen counter. “What exactly did you mean?” 

“Uh–” Wade dropped his head back and started to laugh. “Spidey, I think you are maybe purposefully misunderstanding my innuendo.” 

“I can promise I am doing nothing of the sort.” 

“Oh yeah?” Wade tickled at Peter’s foot. “That’s why you’re doing homework for college math–”

“Its Engineering Physics.” 

“–Alright,  _hard_ college math. I said I want your legs on my shoulders, you thought I meant as a recliner? We are definitely not on the same page here, Spidey.” 

“Damn shame.” Peter said nonchalantly, but when Wade went to stand up, he locked his legs down, using his spidey strength to keep the mercenary where he wanted him. “Where you going? I have  _homework_.” 

“Fine.” Wade threw his hands up and leaned back so Peter was more comfortable. “Do your homework. Ruin my evening. Everything’s fine. I’ll just sit here in my boxers and clean my gun.” 

“Was that a–”

“Oh grow up Spidey, that definitely wasn’t a masturbation joke. College kids. So immature.” 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh look! My very first Flower Shop! AU  
> I've never written one of these before and it got a little out of control length wise lol

Loosely based on [THIS POST](https://not-close-to-straight.tumblr.com/post/178546730133/nanakoblaze-peter-parker-is-a-part-time)

********************

The door to the shop opened, the bell at the top jangling cheerfully and Wade muffled a curse into his hand. 

Customers were good, of course, customers were what officially paid the bills, and kept the local police from watching him too closely because let’s face it, a man who looked as dangerous as Wade and as  _yikes_ as Wade did with his scars, accompanied by a sweetly beautiful girl of eight suddenly moving into the neighborhood flower shop and hanging an open sign despite so obviously knowing nothing about anything leafy– slightly suspicious. 

(Also,  _unofficially_ he had literal suitcases full of money from the good ol’ mercenary days that paid the bills for the flower shop and Ellie’s private school and all that, but was besides the point) 

Anyway, customers were good, so he needed to stop internally cursing about being bothered by yet another little old lady looking for a small but intolerably specific bouquet for her grand daughter or niece or neighbor or who ever the hell–

“Oh.” He blinked in surprise at the not-a-little-old-lady-at-all person standing in front of him. “Uh…  _hey_.” 

“Hi!” The kid looked like he was in a rush, jacket barely on, tie a little crooked and eyes wild, which was a damn shame because if he was this smoking hot when he was frazzled, how good looking would he be sipping at a beer and eating a burger?  

“Do you have any ready made bouquets?” the question yanked Wade from his less-professional thoughts and back to the moment. “I am about thirty minutes past meeting my date, whats a good way to say ‘ _sorry I’m late but I didn’t want to come_ ’ in a nice, flowery kind of way?” 

“Sorry I’m late, but I didn’t want to come.” Wade repeated with a laugh. “That seems… harsh. Why don’t you want to go on a date?” 

“It’s a blind date.” the kid started pulling random flowers and setting them on the counter and Wade started putting them together. “I sort of got tricked into it by my friends and then I got you know…  _busy_ and forgot and now I’m here trying to find the right sort of flowers to apologize without  _actually_ apologizing because if I had my way I wouldn’t go at all, and I’m certainly not interested in a second date.”

“Here then.” Wade shoved  the small bouquet at him. “This should work.” 

“Oh.” Dark eyes blinked down at the flowers and back up at Wade. “That was– that was fast.” 

“The easiest way to tell a girl ‘ _this is nice but let’s not do this again_ ’ is a small bouquet.” Wade started ringing up the flowers. “She knows you didn’t want to spend a bunch of money on her, which is a pretty big clue that you don’t like her because even starving college kids will pony up for roses if they like her enough. Plus nothing says ‘ _lets keep things casua_ l’ like a mix of Gerbera daisies which is pretty much the most casual flower ever.” 

“Wow.” With a smile sweet enough to melt Wade right through the floor, the kid dug out a few bills and pushed them across the counter. “You know a lot about which flowers mean certain things, huh?”

“Not at all.” Wade handed him the receipt. “But if I was trying to let a girl down? Daisies are what I’d pick.” 

“Fair enough.” Another smile. “Um, thank you.” 

“You’re getting later and later the longer you stand here.” Wade reminded him and with an awkward “ _Oh shit_!” the kid bolted from the store. 

“Who was that Daddy?” Ellie peeked around the corner as the door was closing, all big eyes and long hair and eight years of about the most beautiful girl in the world. “A customer?” 

“Yeah.” Wade swept the flower clippings and bits of ribbon into the trash. “Sure was, sweetie. Looks like we will be able to afford to eat tonight! Aren’t you proud of Daddy?!” 

“I’m eight, I’m not stupid.” Ellie rolled her eyes. “I know you can afford dinner whether we sell flowers or not.”

“Ugh you’ve found me out.” Wade swept her into his arms and headed to the back room so he could call for some take-out. “Do you want Mexican or Mexican?”

“Chinese.” Ellie wiggled away and went back to her art work. “Nobody likes Mexican food.” 

“You are definitely not my child.” Wade made a face at her, and Ellie made one right back. “Mexican it is.” 

By the time the chimichanga’s arrived– followed by an order from Ellie’s favorite Chinese food place– Wade was fully immersed in his daughter’s animated re-telling of her day at school, making the appropriate interested noises and comments when needed, and not giving a single thought to the smoking hot ‘I don’t want to go on a date’ brunette that had been his last customer of the day. 

Alright. Maybe a  _single_ thought. He’d been  _smoking_ , after all. Just  _smoking_.  

Alright. Maybe it was  _more_ than a single thought. 

Wade was a dad after all. It’s not like he was dead. He could still notice pretty people, right? 

Maybe he’d get lucky and blind date guy would come back for a follow up bouquet. 

*****************

*****************

The bell at the door jangled and Wade called from the back room, “Be right there!” 

“No rush.” came the answer, soft and smooth, sounding like the person was smiling. “I’m just browsing.” 

It was another three minutes before Wade made it to the front. “Sorry about that. I had to–Oh hey.” he pointed to the customer with a grin. “Blind date guy, right? How’d it go the other night?” 

“Oh awkward, you remember me?” he shoved his hands in his pockets and blushed. “I didn’t mean to leave such a terrible impression.” 

“Not terrible.” Wade shook his head. “ _Memorable_. Not every day I get someone in asking me to please make them a bouquet so they wouldn’t have to go on a second date.” 

“Oh.” Again, and this time the blush was accompanied by a shy smile. “Right. Most people probably don’t do that.” 

_What a fucking hottie._

“So hey.” Dark eyes traveled over Wade’s face and down his arms, cataloging the scars with a flicker of interest. “So I meant to ask but was in too much of a hurry last time. Is Mr. Lee in?” 

“Mr. Lee?” Wade pulled his cap down a little snugger over his head, nothing more than a habit even though the kid didn’t look even a  _smidgen_ as horrified/awkward/morbidly curious as most people did when they saw his skin.  “Short. Glasses. Awesome hair? About a million years old?”

“Yeah.” The customer wandered towards the display of roses, feeling one of the petals idly. “Yeah, he uh– used to own this place.” 

“Right. I bought it from him about eight months ago, me and my little girl.” Wade scratched at his chin in thought. “I think he moved to California, can’t say I blame him, this winter sucks.” 

“That’s too bad.” 

Silence for a minute, the kid touching different flowers, Wade trying not to stare but failing miserably and not bothered about it at all. Who wouldn’t stare? Long legs and a ridiculous amount of hair and  _good Christ look at those cheek bones_. Bambi status big brown eyes and a sweet smile and he hadn’t run screaming when he saw Wade up close so–

_Oh shit, he’s looking at me and I’m staring like a dumbass, say something quick!_

“Sorry, didn’t mean to stare.” he said sheepishly. “But you look familiar, so I thought maybe I knew you.”  _Lies. Blatant lies._

“Not me exactly.” the kid started and Wade wanted to curse. “But Mr. Lee kept pictures of all his regulars on the wall, and I know I was on at least one of the pictures, if not two or three.”

“Oh that must be what it is.”  _Just so many lies_. “Must have seen the pictures a few times when we met up. So you used to be a regular here? Why’d you stop coming by?”

“Um–this used to be my fiancee’s favorite store.” he hesitated. “But she passed away a few years ago and I couldn’t handle coming back.” 

_Well shit._

_Shit shit shit._

 “I uh–” Wade put his hands up awkwardly. “I didn’t expect you to say that and now I feel like a dick. I’m really  _really_ sorry. Just so sorry, holy shit. I’m sorry. I swear. I don’t even actually recognize you from the pictures, I just felt like a creep staring at you so when you said that, I agreed and now its awkward and I’ve been talking for like an hour so–”

“It’s fine.” his smile was a little sad. “I ran in here the other day because it was close to the restaurant and figured it was a fast enough trip that I could be and out before it got to me but its so different in here.” He looked around the shop. “It’s the same but not the same, so its nice and familiar but not to the point where I hate it?” 

He rubbed at the back of his neck self consciously. “TMI, right? Sorry.” 

“Uh, no more TMI than me admitting I was lying about the picture so I could creep on you.” Wade stuck his hand out. “And since we’ve accomplished the weird part of the day, let’s start over. I’m Wade Wilson.”

“Peter Parker.” The slim fingers were calloused, the grip surprisingly strong. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you too.” Still feeling bad about inadvertently bringing up Peter’s fiancee, Wade cleared his throat. “So um, didn’t want to go on a blind date, huh? Did the flowers at least do their job when you were late?” 

“They probably would have done their job if I had actually showed up for the date.” Peter grimaced. “I got busy on the way to the restaurant and by the time I got there, she was gone.” 

“So you came back for a ‘ _sorry I suck but I never liked you anyway_ ’ bouquet?” 

“ _Wow_.” Peter laughed quietly and Wade tried to smother a goofy grin. “Uh no. No I’m not here for that specific bouquet. I actually came back because you know–” a vague motion around the store. “Memories. Just wanted to check out the old place.”

“Feel free to hang out.” Wade started totaling the receipts for the day. “No one buys flowers on Tuesdays and I had nothing to look at with an empty store but now that  _you’re_ here I look like a legitimate business and not a front for something sketchy  _and_ I have something to look at so–”

Peter’s mouth dropped and Wade put his hands up. “You know what? Never mind. You should definitely leave before I say something really stupid. I need to make dinner for my kid anyway and it seems like the longer you’re here the worse my mouth diarrhea gets so, you know, get along. Get going. I’m through embarrassing myself for the day.” 

He pointed towards the door and hid his face with the other hand. “Have a nice day, Mr. Parker.” 

“Wait.” Peter was laughing at him and if Wade didn’t fucking  _love_ that sound so much he might have yelled. “Wait, what if I need a bouquet though?”

“I thought you came here for the memories.” Wade said blankly. 

“Well, I did.” Peter stepped closer to the counter. “But it sounds like you’re going to throw me out if I don’t buy something, so let me buy something. Let’s see, uh. My friend MJ is  _pissed_ that I blew off the date last week? So what about a ‘ _Sorry I ruined your plan to meddle in my love life_ ’ bouquet.” 

Wade squinted at him suspiciously, but Peter only raised his eyebrows and smiled hopefully. 

“Alright fine.” He pushed the receipts away. “Hand me the hyacinths.” 

“Hyacinths.” Peter ran his fingers over the flower labels until he got to the right spot. “Which color?” 

“Usually blue, but anything works, just grab a handful.” Wade grabbed a sheet of tissue paper and cut a ribbon. “And um… carnations.”

“Carnations. Why carnations?” 

“I don’t know a whole lot about flowers.” Wade started arranging the flowers on the tissue paper. “But I know a whole lot about apologizing after the fact, and every time I used to order ‘ _hey I fucked up_ ’ flowers, they always had hyacinths and carnations in the bouquet. Something about sincerity? And not forgetting? I dunno, but they are pretty and girls like them.” 

“So if you don’t actually know a whole lot about flowers, why did you buy Mr. Lee’s flower shop.” Peter watched in interest as the bouquet took shape. “No offence but you don’t seem like the type to be into  _flowers_.” 

“Because of–” Wade made a motion to his face. “Even ugly ducklings like pretty things, kiddo.” 

“I’m twenty four.” Peter rolled his eyes. “Don’t call me kiddo. And I wasn’t talking about that, I mean because you’re– you know.” 

“If you aren’t talking about my face, then I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Wade kept his head ducked as he spoke, not wanting Peter to see the anxiety in his eyes. 

 _He’d_ gotten used to his face and  _Ellie_ had gotten used to his face, and most customers in a flower shop were too nice to  _say_ anything about his face, but he was still a little self conscious about it, especially when super hot brunettes with cute smiles were involved. 

“I  _meant_ because you look like you probably work for the mob.” Peter explained, and when Wade glanced up, he mimed broad shoulders and thick arms. “Is your flower shop a front for the mob? You gonna whack some little old lady and needed this as a cover to get to know her habits?” 

“You think I’m in the  _mob_?” Wade couldn’t help his laugh. “This is a completely legitimate business with completely normal customers and nothing suspicious going on in the back room! Why on earth would you think it was anything other than something completely above-board!?” 

“Which is why the man who owns it has a daughter I’ve never seen and knows jack shit about flowers?” Peter challenged. “Ah yes, nothing suspicious at all.” 

“Hey!” he protested over another laugh. “I knew  _hyacinth_ , didn’t I? And you haven’t seen my daughter because she’s doing homework and you’ve only been in here twice! What kind of dad would I be if I let strange flower buying boys who stand up blind dates meet her after only two purchases?” 

“Two purchases.” Peter’s dark eyes sparked playfully. “So how many purchases do I have to make before I learn what else you may or may not know about flowers?” 

“It would cost at  _least_ a dinner before I let you in on my super secret know-how about roses.” Wade retorted. “And learning about lilies would definitely require a walk in the park afterwards.” 

“Oh.” Peter’s smiled started to dim and Wade mentally kicked himself. “A date, huh?” 

“Well you know, only if you’re dying to know about roses.” Wade tried to salvage the moment, irritated that he had ruined it by blabbing on like that.

Of course, Peter didn’t want to go on a date. Not only had they only talked twice, but the first time had literally been because he was on the way to a completely un-wanted blind date, and you know… a date with a  _girl_ … so Wade was taking a chance that Peter would say yes to a date with a guy anyway. 

_Swing and a miss. Real smooth, jack ass._

“How about I come back for a bouquet for my Aunt’s birthday.” Peter said instead. “And you can tell me what you know about lilies?” 

“Lily? I only know one.” Wade said automatically. “Red head. Wild. Feisty as shit and only like, four and a half feet tall, literally adorable, she was like a button I could put in my pocket.” 

“I meant the flowers, Wade.” Peter handed him a twenty. “Lily the  _flower_.” 

“…I knew what you meant.” He scoffed, and handed back some change. “I was just testing you.” 

“Of course you were.” Peter took a whiff of the bouquet and nodded. “This should make sure that MJ doesn’t give me death glares all weekend. Thanks, Wade.” 

“Sure thing, Pete.” 

“Pete?” He scrunched a fucking  _adorable_ nose. “ _Pete_?” 

“Look I’m a nickname type of guy.” Wade shrugged it off. “You can be Pete or you can be Pumpkin Doodle. Which one do you want?”  

“Pete’s fine!” He laughed, backpedaling out of the store. “Next time, Wade.” 

Wade waved, and definitely didn’t spend another few minutes smiling to himself as he tried to do math to settle the register for the night. 

“Do you like him?” A quiet voice from the back and Wade jumped about a mile. “I think he likes you.”

“Ellie, it’s my job to be nice to customers, and he was just being nice back.” Wade shook his head. “Lot’s of people think that retail workers are flirting, but that’s not always true.”

“I’m eight, Daddy.” She sighed and started pulling on his hand so they could go eat. “Not stupid.” 

*******************

*******************

“Here.” Wade handed Peter the stack of flowers. “One ‘ _Happy Birthday Dear Old Auntie_ ’ bouquet.” 

“This is perfect.” Peter grinned down at the lilies and roses. “What’s your reasoning behind this one?” 

“The lilies are on sale.” Wade tried not to smile so big but Peter’s grin was ridiculously cute. “And the roses are fresh in. You can tell her they are brand new, fresh off the farm flowers and she’ll probably pinch your cheek and call you a good  _Bubela_.” 

“ _Bubela_ means grandma.” Peter touched one of the blooms with careful fingers. “She calls me Lolo Bear. Has since I was seven.” 

“Well that’s just about the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” Wade declared. “Is it because you’re pint sized?” 

“I am most definitely not pint sized!” Peter protested. “Lolo Bear was the name of my stuffed animal when I was a kid and–” he turned bright red. “Why am I telling you this?” 

“I dunno, but its adorable.” Wade flicked a leaf at him. “And you’re kinda pint sized. My kid could beat you up.” 

“There you go again, talking about your imaginary daughter.” This time it was a credit card that Peter handed over to pay for the flowers and Wade glanced at the nearly illegible signature at the back. “I should leave before I start spouting other random child hood tales, huh?” 

“Nah, stay.” Wade gave him the receipt to sign. “You only ever come in right before closing so it’s not like I have anything else going on. Tell me more about what your super hot aunt calls you.” 

“Let’s not call my aunt super hot.” Peter raised his eyebrows. “She’s in her fifties.” 

“That doesn’t mean she’s not hot.” Wade countered. “You had to get those good genes somewhere, right? Does your mom look like her? Or is the hotness on your dad’s side because either way–” 

“My parents disappeared when I was six.” Peter interrupted and Wade smacked a hand onto his forehead. “And Aunt May married into the family. No hotness genes being shared.” 

“Okay.” Wade blew out a deep breath. “In my defense? I had no idea about your parents–”

“I know, and it’s fine.” Peter was laughing at him. 

“–And now I feel awkward about calling your Aunt hot cause I was trying to actually hit on you, but knowing that she’s not actually related makes it less smooth.” 

“It certainly wasn’t smooth.” Peter winked. “But I mean, you could just call  _me_ hot and not drag my aunt or parents into it.”

“Oh.” Wade’s eyebrows flew up. “Oh you’d be okay with that?” 

“With—”

“With me, a guy, telling you, a guy, that you’re hot as hell, even knowing that you used to come here with your fiancee and that I managed to dredge up parental disappearing things while sounding like I was hitting on your Aunt.” 

“Uh, yeah.” A spot of pink of Peter’s cheeks. “Yes, I am fine with all of that, regardless of how awkwardly you phrased it.” 

“Alright, then let’s re-wind all of that and start over.” Wade folded his arms and took a deep breath. “Uh hey, Pete, I think you’re hot.” 

“You’re pretty hot too, Wade.” Peter tapped the receipt on the counter and headed out the door. “Next time!” 

That night over dinner, Ellie narrowed her eyes at her dad and asked, “He came in again today, didn’t he? You’re smiling funny.”

“I’m not smiling.” Wade protested over a mouthful of noodles. 

“Daddy–”

“I know you’re eight.” Wade stabbed his chopsticks at her. “And entirely too mouthy and definitely not stupid. Yes, he came in today.” 

“He likes you!” she said in a sing song voice. “Has he given you his number?” 

“No, why would he do that?” 

“Because he likes you?” She huffed. “Duh.” 

“You’ve been watching too much television, sweetheart.” Wade kissed her forehead. “Finish your noodle and let’s do homework.”

******************

******************

“What do you know about orchids?” Peter asked without looking up from the text message on his phone. “Are they pretty popular?”

“They are expensive and more difficult than you’d think to grow.” Wade said absentmindedly, doing his own thing balancing the books at the end of the month. “Why do you ask?” 

“Just wondering if you’ve given up on pretending to know things about flowers.” Peter cracked a grin and Wade winged a pen at him. “ _Ow_! What? It’s a valid question!” 

“Hey, I can google things.” Wade retorted. “Besides, it’s Valentines Day, I’ve got to brush up on my knowledge for the holiday rush, right?” 

“Right.” Peter finished his text message and put his phone away. “I need a flower for my pocket tonight? MJ and Harry are announcing their engagement at some fancy thing and we’re supposed to be in a suit and tie and that requires a flower or handkerchief or something in my lapel?” 

“You want a carnation or a rose?” 

“Now if I knew that, I wouldn’t have made a special trip to my friendly neighborhood not-a-front-for-the-mob flower shop, now would I?” 

“Whatever, Pete.” Wade snipped off a rose top and dug around for a box to put it in. “Why’d you ask about orchids then?” 

“I told you.” Peter took the box. “I was just seeing how much you knew. Keeping you on top of your game.”

“Oh well thank goodness for that.” Wade waved away Peter’s money. “It’s just the top of a rose, Pete don’t worry about it.” 

“Here then.” he shoved the bills in the tip jar. “See you around.” 

**********************

**********************

The following Wednesday–Ellie sang out, “He liiiiiikes you!” After Peter walked out of the shop with a bouquet Wade had declared the perfect way to say ‘ _Sorry I missed your birthday party but I didn’t want to have to hang out with your drunk friends_ ’.

“He likes you.” She said again. “He definitely does. He totally smiled at you when he left.”

“Ellie.” Wade sighed. “Leave it alone.” 

And the next Saturday–“He  _definitely_ likes you!” She crowed. “He didn’t even buy anything this time!” 

Wade smiled, because Peter had definitely just showed up and hung out for close to two hours, talking and laughing as he sat on the counter and watched Wade put together corsages for a local high schools Valentines dance.

“Maybe.”

The Thursday after that– “Daddy he left you his number!” Ellie shrieked out loud and came running over to Wade’s side. “He signed his credit card slip and wrote down his number!” 

“He had me deliver flowers to his Aunt.” Wade denied. “It’s probably the hospital’s number.” 

“Oh Dad. You’re the worst.” 

The very next evening, Peter was knocking on the door right as Wade flipped the closed sign, and he unlocked the door curiously. 

“Heya Pete. I was just closing up.” 

“Ugh, sorry about that.” He grinned sheepishly. “Can I get some flowers?” 

“What do you need?” Wade motioned him through and locked the door again. “Late for another blind date?” 

“Oh god forbid.” Peter ran his finger through his hair a little self consciously. “Uh no, I actually have a problem and thought you could help. I have been seeing someone? Sort of on the side, and I’m ready to try and take it up a notch, if that makes sense.” 

“Oh.” Wade tried to keep the disappointment from his voice. “Alright, so you need a ‘ _let not just be friends_ ’ bouquet?” 

“It’s more of a ‘ _take the fucking hint’_  bouquet.” Peter admitted. “With a smidge of ‘ _how much more obvious do I need to be_ ’?” 

“Damn, Pete.” Wade chuckled at him and started pulling differing colored roses from the display. “Your crush can’t help it if your signs are too sublte.” 

“Well what’s the most obvious flower in the world?” 

“Roses.” Wade held up the armful. “Roses are pretty obvious.” 

“Rose it up.” Peter hopped onto the counter. “What does yellow stand for?” 

“Oh I know this.” Wade snipped the ends off several of the flowers. “I’ve been doing my homework. Yellow is mostly friendship, but can also be about new beginnings and jealousy if your person is with someone else.” 

“Add in a few of those.” Peter instructed. “What else?” 

“Pink is happiness and admiration, but also sincerity, as in ‘ _please believe how much I care’_.” 

“Okay only like, two of those. What else.”

“I’d say white but judging by how tight you wear those skinny jeans, I’d say  _purity_ is out of the question.” Wade snarked and Peter rolled his eyes. “So let’s skip that one.” 

“Move on, Wade.” 

“I’ve got these blue roses.” Wade added those to the bouquet as well.

“Oh pretty, what does blue stand for?” 

“I dunno.” Wade smirked. “But they’re cool.” 

“Fair enough.” Peter glanced around the store. “What about something like…  _moving on_? Or _ready to try_?” 

“You’re trying to send a real specific message aren’t you?” 

“Yep. Real specific.” 

“Alright, um–” Wade scratched at his head. “”Here. This is a rain lily. They are supposed to be a sign of surviving a storm, which could be moving on, right?” he softened his voice. “Especially considering what you’re moving on from, huh?” 

“Water lilies it is.” Peter nodded slowly. “What else?” 

“This is a  _Ranunculus_ –”

“Don’t make up words, Wade.”

“I’m wounded, Pete. A  _Ranunculus_ symbolizes attraction and charm. How dare you think I’m making things up.” 

“My bad.” Peter’s eyes sparkled teasingly. “Alright, so I’ve got new beginnings and sincerity, I’ve got blue just because it’s cool, rain lilies for moving on, that made up flower for attraction. What’s left? Red?”

“Red roses are pretty intense.” Wade raised his eyebrows. “Maybe leave those ones out for right now, at least until you know if they are returning your feelings?” 

“Well, I’d  _know_ if he returned my feelings if he would have called when I left my number.” Peter said quietly, shyly. “I mean, it’s been like four weeks since the first one and twenty four hours since the last one and my phone hasn’t gotten so much as a text message. It’s enough to make a guy feel unwanted.” 

“What?” Wade busied himself arranging the flowers. “Why wouldn’t someone text you?” 

“I can promise I just don’t know.” Peter replied. 

“Oh for the love of–!” A voice from the back startled both of them, and Peter’s mouth dropped open with a little girl stomped around the corner. “ _Daddy_! Peter left his number for YOU! I told you he did and you didn’t text him? Why not!” a swift kick to Wade’s ankle had the man hopping and glaring down at her. 

“Uh–” Peter looked between them in surprise. “Good god, you actually have a daughter.”

“You really thought I was lying about that?” Wade rubbed his ankle and sent his daughter a look. “Ellie, don’t you have homework to do?” 

“Nope.” She said cheerfully, and pointed at Peter. “You left your number for my dad, didn’t you?” 

“Uh yeah– yeah I did.” 

“I TOLD YOU!” She shrieked and kicked at Wade again. “Now his feelings are hurt because you didn’t text him!” 

“Ellie!” Wade hissed, and then quieter towards Peter– “Pete, you left me your number?” 

“On the back of a credit card receipt like a month ago.” Peter’s face was bright red but he nodded. “And yesterday, too. But you didn’t text me so I thought I’d be a little more obvious.” 

“You um–” Wade looked down at the flowers, then back up at Peter. “Wow. But you didn’t even want to go on a blind date.” 

“No, I didn’t want a blind date, but I mean, I  _know_ you.” Another blush. “Or at least I know you pretty well, right? We’ve been hanging out for a month and a half now! How many bouquets do you really think I need!” 

“I just figured you were a nice guy!” Wade exclaimed. “After you told me about your fiancee I thought–”

“You told me I was hot and I told you that you were hot too.” Peter countered. 

“Yeah, but you also mentioned your  _parents_ in that conversation.” Wade pointed out. “It was a whole ball of awkward.”  

“Okay awkward references aside–” Peter huffed at him. “I mean, I came and sat with you for like two hours while you made corsages.” 

“And there was that one time where he came by early in the morning and brought you coffee while you were working on the wedding.” Ellie chimed in counting off on her fingers. “And then the other time you ordered pizza so he had something eat while you did your inventory. And then the–”

“Thank you, spawn of my loins.” Wade covered her mouth with his hand and pushed he away. “So uh Pete, this bouquet–”

“You said it yourself.” Peter picked up one of the blue roses and twirled it under Wade’s nose. “Roses are pretty obvious.” 

“I–I definitely said that.” Wade took the rose and smiled over how sweet and shy Peter looked. “And sorry that I haven’t been picking up on your cues. After the fiancee fiasco I knew better than to hope you were ready for anything.” 

“I’m not saying I’m ready for  _everything_.” Peter scooted closer on the counter. “But I could handle a date.” 

“I would love a date with a hottie like you.” Wade brushed his knuckles over Peter’s cheek. “Especially since not once have you mentioned my scars or asked about why I’m a single dad or anything like that. But Pete– Pete I gotta tell you, I have a whole history that–”

“Are you a criminal?” Peter interrupted. “Wanted by the police?” 

“Not– not really.” Wade hedged, since he wasn’t technically wanted in the US and all the other places Deadpool was wanted were sketchy places with sketchier leaders. “No. Not wanted by the police. But there’s a few things you should probably–”

“And Ellie is really your kid?” 

“Yes, definitely mine.” He sent a fond look towards his daughter. “Definitely mine.” 

“Well I can handle everything else.” Peter promised. “So, a date? Or do I need to start buying more roses from you?” 

“Pete, I love the enthusiasm, but–” 

“Wade.” Peter tugged at his collar and Wade got a flash of a red and blue undershirt. “You don’t know  _half_ the weird about me. I can handle yours.” 

“Pete–”

“SHUT UP AND ASK HIM OUT!” Ellie shrieked. “I’m tired of watching you moon over him! Kiss already!” 

“Do you get your temper from your dad?” Peter smiled down at Ellie. “You look an awful lot like him.” 

“Yes, I’m beautiful, I know.” she sniffed. “Kiss already.” 

Wade pulled a red rose from the pile and tapped Peter’s lips with it. “Pucker up, Butter-cup.” 

Peter took the rose and leaned in to place a gentle gentle kiss on Wade’s chapped lips. 

“Ugh.” Ellie made a face. “Kissing.  _Gross_.” 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one where Wade and Peter have a weird first meeting

“Here.” Gwen handed Peter a folded piece of paper. “The guy at table seventeen asked me to give this to you.”

“Um–” Peter looked down at the torn paper and back up at his friend. “I didn’t know waitressing involved passing notes for customers.” 

“Sweetheart, you’d be surprised what waitressing involves.” she said dryly, and poured him another cup of coffee. “How’s the article going? Did Jameson give you an extension on the deadline?” 

“He gave me until tonight to get it finished and–” Peter tapped at his keyboard a few times. “–and if you would proof read it for me on your break, then I’ll be good to go.” 

“Pete, I’m supposed to pour coffee and pass notes, not proof read articles.” Gwen frowned disapprovingly. “My break is only fifteen minutes long and–” 

“I’ll pay you fifty dollars.” Peter interrupted. “Fifty dollars to proof read it, because last time you didn’t proof read it I spelled  _Parker_ as  _Pckeer_ and Jameson printed it like that just to be a dick.” 

“Orrrrr the other option is that you could just re-read yourwork so you don’t fuck up your own last name.” She suggested, but Peter waved a fifty dollar bill under her nose and she snatched it with a sigh. “Fine. Email it to me and I’ll read through it on my break.” 

“I love you.” Peter whispered, and dug into his long-cold breakfast. “You’re the best.” 

“Ugh, I know.” Gwen waited until  he’d downed half the coffee and topped off his cup again. “Read your note, I can feel the guy staring over here and frankly it’s making me uncomfortable.” 

“Right right right.” Peter swallowed a mound of pancakes and unfolded the note, squinting at the barely legible chicken scratch. “ _Hey, if you’re not gay my friend thinks you’re cute, here’s her number… and if you are gay, here’s mine_? Gwen, what the fuck–?” 

Gwen’s blue eyes were sparkling with laughter, a hand held over her mouth so she wouldn’t get too loud. “So which is it Pete? Are you going to call his friend or him?” 

“Uh– neither?” Peter shook his head and took another swig of coffee. “Did you know he was going to do that Who does that? Who just passes out numbers to strangers at a diner while taking random guesses at their sexuality?” 

“Someone who is probably very confident that you are in fact gay, considering that there’s no girl sitting at the table with him.” Gwen sent a discreet look over her shoulder. “He asked about the last time you were in here you know, real polite and non creepy though, don’t worry. I’m not surprised he wants to ask you out even though I’m a little surprised he did it via  _note_.” 

“They’re both the same number.” Peter said flatly. “He didn’t even write down two different numbers. It’s the same number for the girl and the guy.” 

“Okay, so maybe he isn’t as smooth as he thinks he is.” She countered. “But you should talk to him anyway.” 

“Why on earth–”

“Because it’s adorable that he passed you a note and it’s hilarious that he accidentally gave you the same number twice and he looks all hopeful and bashful and ridiculous over there in the booth.” She jabbed at him with her pencil. “And you need to be laid so badly, I can almost  _smell_ the sexual frustration in the air.” 

Peter glared up at her, and Gwen put her hands on her hips and glared right back. “You know I’m right, Peter Benjamin Parker.” 

“Alright fine.” Peter relented with a groan. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a date. I’ll text him.”

“Aw, I knew you would.” Gwen bent and kissed his cheek. “Good luck.” 

“Get out of here.” he pushed her away with a grumpy noise. “Nosy, interfering waitress.” 

“Just for that, I’m going to autocorrect every other word in your article to  _pooper_.” she threatened. “You should know better than to get cranky with your waitress.” 

“For fucks sake–” Peter dug his phone out of his pocket and fired off a text to the first number on the page. 

_You wrote down the same number twice on the note. How am I supposed to know if I’m talking to the guy or the girl?_

**Uh…. well. Did you dial the top number or the bottom number?**

_It doesn’t matter, they are both the same._

**Does to matter. If you dialed the top one, then you wanted to talk to the girl. If you dialed the bottom then you wanted the guy.**

_Which one are you?_

**Which one did you dial?**

_THEY ARE BOTH THE SAME! Oh my god, this was a terrible idea._

**NO NO NO WAIT WAIT WAIT Sorry, I’m new at the whole passing notes to hot guys in the cafe thing. Okay either way, you texted me. Wade. That’s me. I’m waving at you, but you aren’t waving at me, look up and wave.**

“Oh my god.” Peter’s eyes hurt from rolling them so hard, but he looked up and across the restaurant to see someone waving frantically at him from a corner booth, and when they started waving with both hands, he reluctantly waved back. 

**Oh good, for a minute I was afraid Gwen gave the note to the wrong person. So what’s up. I’m Wade. You should let me take you out to dinner and then we can do something like take a moonlit walk along the beach or some other romantic bullshit.**

_Wow, you really aren’t good at this._

**I’m really not.**

Peter stared down at his phone for a minute, chewing at his lip as he thought about whether or not he was  _really_ going to go through with a date with weird-texting-diner-guy. 

**Here maybe this will help you make up your mind.**

A picture message, a shot of a set of overly defined abs, low slung jeans, just the hint of a nipple at the top of the picture. 

_Are you… did you just send me a sexy pic to try and convince me to say yes? That’s so weird._

**Okay but in my defense, it’s not like I had a sexy pic just sitting on my phone. It’s more difficult than you’d think to get a decent picture while sitting down in a restaurant. I should get points for effort.**

“Points for effort…” Peter’s head shot up, mouth falling open in disbelief when he saw the guy in the booth with his shirt rucked up to under his chin, phone held in one hand as he wriggled and twisted and sucked in his (non existent) gut and tried to get a decent picture. 

**Here is this better?**

Another picture, blurry but closer up and Peter ran a hand over his face as he tried not to laugh. What in the fuck was wrong with this guy?

_Yeah alright, points for effort_

**And because I have a rockin’ bod?**

… _sure_.

**So expensive dinner, romantic walk along the beach, et cetera et cetera?**

_And ice cream._

**Yes, so much ice cream, definitely. So you got a name to go with all that hair and what I’m assuming is a scream worthy booty?**

_I can’t believe I’m doing this, but yes. My name’s Peter._

**Peter pumpkin pie this is going to be a blast.**

_It’s just Peter._

**Sure thing snooky-butter.**

_Oh my god._


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aw they are soulmates again. 
> 
> (Based on a prompt from my tumblr for a soulmate au where they taste whatever their soulmate is eating)

It wasn’t supposed to happen all the time, and really it probably didn’t happen as much as people said it did, but everyone at some point or another ended up tasting whatever it was their soulmate was tasting. 

Of course, it only happened after the soulmates had met and the soulmate bond had sparked, which usually meant they were already dating if not married so it wasn’t a huge deal. _And_ it only happened if the soulmates were thinking about each other at the exact same time. 

So you tasted toothpaste while you were drinking your morning coffee because your soulmate was brushing their teeth. Not an issue. Or maybe they were eating pizza and suddenly spit it out because pepperoni should  _not_ taste like lo mein and spicy mustard. Whatever, it’s good for a laugh. 

Generally speaking, it was adorable and a tiny bit romantic and depending on the… _situation_ … and what was being… _tasted_ … while thinking about your soulmate… well. It could be tiny bit sexy too. 

On the other hand, it could be entirely confusing and definitely annoying especially if you were one Peter Parker who was very sure he hadn’t met his soulmate yet and therefore had no idea what in the hell was happening or why the hell he was tasting weird things all the time.

“Oh ugh.” Peter made a face when he bit into his sandwich. “Why does everything taste like chimichangas lately?” 

“Well, to be fair, the sandwich shop is also a Mexican food place, so maybe they didn’t wipe down the counters well enough between our orders and you’re getting leftover chimichanga spice.”

“That’s officially the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” Peter chucked the sandwich and took a long drink of his soda. “We need another place to eat. Find some place new for tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Orrrrr you could stop complaining and be grateful I bought your webby ass food at all.” Wade crammed the last of his food into his mouth. “Just a thought.” 

“Dick.” Peter kicked at Wade, and Wade kicked back. “What are you doing after this?” 

“What am I doing after this?” The big merc repeated. “You mean after we finish patrol at some god awful hour in the morning and I’m exhausted from smacking bad guys all night and staring at your butt? Pete, I’m doin’ the same thing I always do– passing the fuck out to a marathon of Golden Girls and then I’ll wake up and jerk off and– _fuck_!” He spat out a mouthful of his own drink out. “Did I get your drink? This is definitely Dr. Pepper and  _not_ Mountain Dew mixed with Red Bull.” 

“Yeah well, they probably knew that nasty ass drink of yours would give you a heart attack.” Peter countered, trying not to think about Wade jerking off and whether or not he thought about Peter while doing it. “Our sandwich guy just saved your life, you should be thanking him.” 

“Uh-huh.” Wade patted down his pockets and pulled out a cigarette. “So anyway, what are you doing after this, and what can I do to make sure it involves both of us getting naked? Do I need to bribe you or something? Pay you?” 

“If I didn’t trust you with my life, I’d think you were a creep for saying shit like that.” Peter waved away a plume of smoke, coughing a little. “And put that out, don’t you know cigarettes are bad for you?” 

“What’s it gonna do, give me cancer?” Wade deadpanned. “I’m pretty sure I’m fine.” 

“Yeah, well it tastes gross.” Peter coughed again and scooted away. He really wanted to be close to Wade, _really_ wanted to be close to him, but the smoke was  _awful_. “I can literally taste it in my mouth and it’s gross.” 

“Shut up and drink some more Dr. Pepper.” Wade shot back. “And you still didn’t answer my question. What are you doing after patrol tonight?” 

“Just gonna go home.” Peter said vaguely, side-eyeing Wade from behind his mask, watching the way the material pulled at the thick biceps every time Wade shifted, the way it flexed over his thighs. “Go home and you know… sleep and stuff.” 

“Sleep and stuff? Sounds to me like Spidey’s gonna do some self-loving!” Wade cracked up laughing at Peter’s embarrassed little shriek. “Aw, don’t be so shy, sugar buns! Ain’t no thang!” 

“Annnnnnd I’m leaving.” Peter jumped to his feet, glad his mask kept Wade from seeing his bright red cheeks. “Night, Wade.” 

“See you in your dreams!” Wade yelled as Peter webbed off. “I promise I’ll be naked!” 

**********************

**********************

Peter didn’t plan on…  _sleeping and stuff_ … with Wade on his mind, but that’s how it ended up anyway, and it wasn’t all that surprising because Wade had been all Peter could think about for  _months_ now.

He took a long shower to get the  _gross_ of patrol off of himself, and an extra brush of his teeth to get the lingering taste of  _ugh_ cigarettes– why did his mouth still taste like cigarettes??– and Peter ended up just standing under the spray of hot water, letting his muscles unlock one by one and his mind wander. 

Well, not so much ‘wander’ as it did  _detour_ and land directly on one fast talking, overly muscled, completely ridiculous and somehow so hot it made Peter’s head spin  _mercenary_. 

The shower went cold long before Peter was done  _thinking_ about Wade, so he wrapped a towel around his waist and headed towards bed, giving himself a cursory pat down before flopping down on the comforter and digging in his side drawer for something slick. 

Time to  _really_ think about Wade and muscles and  _spandex_ and how badly Peter wanted to pin him to the wall and climb him like a goddamn  _tree_ and–

Peter started coughing when he tasted cigarettes again, muttering “What the fuck?” as he fumbled for a stick of gum. “Why do I taste cigarettes–” 

He froze when the taste changed, something wet and sort of minty and…and… warming? Was it  _warming_ in his mouth? Was that– was he tasting  _lube_?

“Gum gum gum.” Peter scrambled for more gum, shoving it into his mouth and chewing vigorously. He didn’t know what the hell was going on or why the hell he was tasting lube or why he still sort of tasted smoke, but enough was  _enough_.

Hopping off his bed, Peter headed right to the fridge and ripped into a leftover bowl of soup, eating it cold just to change the flavor of his mouth.

Halfway across town, Wade gagged when something with the texture of cold meat and soggy carrots overtook the taste of his cigarette. “What in the–” 

One hand still firmly wrapped around his cock, Wade felt around for his phone with the other one and fired off a text to Peter. 

**What in the fuck-knuckles are you eating?**

_Cold fucking soup, why?_

**Well it tastes gross. Cut it out.**

Wade didn’t think anything about his text, and when Peter didn’t text him back with in a few minutes, he shrugged and poured some more lube in the palm of his hand and went back to working his way to an orgasm, idly wondering if Pete had tasted it when he’d licked the lube earlier. 

Not that Wade made a habit of tasting  _lube_ , but it had been a new flavor and he wanted to check out the warming feature before smearing it all over more delicate areas and well, it had tasted as weird as he thought it would but not as scary-spicy as he thought so it was deemed safe for his dick. 

Safe and  _ooh_ he sort of liked the warming bit and maybe–

“ _Eeeek_!” A less than sexy and definitely less than manly scream when his bedroom window was suddenly ripped open and Spidey scrambled over the sash and up the wall. 

“Okay.” Wade flipped the blanket over his lap and wiped his hand on the sheets. “Okay. I know I said you could drop by anytime? But crawling in through my window like a got-damn bug is weird, don’t do that anymore. We’ve got to have  _some_ boundaries, Pete.” 

“Oh no. Are you–” A quick glance down at Wade’s lap. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?” 

“Well, I’m not doing it anymore.” Wade defended. “What do you want, Webs? You’re interrupting my special alone time.”

“You told me my soup tasted gross.” Peter said flatly. “You. My soup. Gross.” 

“Well it did, who eats cold beef and carrots, I mean are we animals?” Wade threw his hands up in the air, then grabbed at the blanket when it slipped. “Why wouldn’t you eat something good?” 

“BECAUSE MY MOUTH TASTED LIKE LUBE AND CIGARETTES!” Peter shouted. “WHO TASTES LUBE AND THEN SMOKES A CIGARETTE?!” 

“I HAD TO GET RID OF THE LUBE TASTE!” 

“OH MY GOD!” Peter stood up on the wall and waved his hands wildly. “WHY ARE WE YELLING?? I JUST FOUND OUT WE WERE SOULMATES!” 

“You  _just_ found out?” Wade ignored how weird it was for Spidey to just be standing sideways on his wall in favor of gaping at him in confusion. “What do you mean you  _just_ found out?” 

“You  _didn’t_ just find out?” Peter crouched back on the wall, tilting his head suspiciously. “Did you know? How long have you known? We’re soulmates and you wouldn’t say anything? Why wouldn’t you say something?” 

“I figured you knew.” Starting to feel self conscious for the first time, Wade shifted on the bed uneasily. “And since you didn’t say anything I figured you didn’t wanna do anything about it, so I just let it go. I mean nothing’s worse than unrequited soulmate shit, right? No one wants to bug someone who doesn’t want to be their soulmate and since you kept ignoring all the stuff happening I figured you didn’t want to be bothered with it and–”

“We’re soulmates, you asshole.” Peter shot a pile of webbing at Wade’s mouth to shut him up. “And I think it’s pretty obvious that I had no clue, so why didn’t you say something? Did you really think I wouldn’t want to know we were soulmates?” 

“ _Mmmph_.” Wade mumbled, pointing at him mouth. “ _Mmmblergh_.  _Thnsffly_.” 

“Ugh.” Peter crawled over and ripped the webs off, flipping over neatly and landing on Wade’s lap. “Why didn’t you say something, Wade?” 

“Okay, to be fair I assumed you were smart enough to realize that you tasting the cigarette I was smoking meant that we were soulmates. And if the cigarette wasn’t enough–” Wade shrugged. “You were eating a sandwich and I was eating a chimi and your sub suddenly tasted like my food? My soda tasted like your soda? How many hints did you need?” 

“I didn’t– you should have– I can’t–” Peter reached up and tore off his mask, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “That’s not  _fair_! I just figured we were sitting too close so I was breathing in your smoke or maybe you accidentally took a drink of my soda and then–and then–” he stopped. “Wade? Why are you staring at me?” 

“Fuck me sideways, you’re so cute.” Wade laughed a little, inched the blankets a little higher up his chest so he wasn’t showing quite so much skin. “You’ve seen me without my mask but I’ve never seen you and I gotta say, I wasn’t prepared at all.” 

“Oh.” Peter’s cheeks tinted pink. “Thanks. But um, the point is, if you  _knew_ we were soulmates you could have stopped smoking since you know I hate it. Or you could have not licked  _lube_ if you knew I’d taste it or you could have used your words like a goddamn adult.”

“I could have.” Wade was still staring, trying to disappear a little further beneath the quilt. “But like I said, aren’t you a genius? You should have picked up on the–”

“Stop that.” Peter smacked Wade’s hand away and shoved the blanket back down to his waist, baring Wade’s chest and flattening his palms against it. “Don’t be self conscious, you know I think you’re hot. Otherwise I wouldn’t have broken into your window and currently be sitting on your lap. In fact, I can’t believe you’re  _not_ making a comment about where I’m sitting.” 

“Little more distracted by the soulmate thing then about how good you feel on top of me.” Wade admitted. “You uh–you really didn’t know about us? Because I figured you just didn’t want to deal with you know,  _me_? And I was ready to let it be. I understand, you know. I get why you wouldn’t want to–” he cleared his throat. “I get why you wouldn’t want to be part of it.” 

“That’s stupid. You’re stupid.” Peter leaned in and pressed their foreheads together. “ _Fuck_ , Wade.” 

“I mean, if you don’t believe me, we could test it?” Wade very  _very_ carefully fit his palm to the back of Peter’s neck, rubbing his thumb in slow circles over the rapid pulse. “You know?” 

“ _Mmmm_.” Peter leaned into the touch, inching further up Wade’s lap. “That feels good. S’posed to feel good when soulmates touch.” 

“Yeah.” Wade swallowed hard when Peter’s breath puffed against his skin. “Yeah, it is. Um okay. So are we testing this? It’s supposed to work if we’re thinking of each other at the same time, so you eat something and I’ll eat something and if we taste it, then you’ll know for sure.” 

“But  _you_ already know for sure.” 

“I do.” Wade agreed, slipping his hand up until his fingers were tangled in all that thick hair, tugging lightly until Peter ‘s head tipped back, his lips parting over a sigh. “But  _you_ don’t, so if this helps you figure it out, we’ll do it.” 

“What should we taste?” Peter sounded a little loopy, dreamy and soft and Wade sort of loved it. “Like peanut butter? Soda? Candy?” 

“Here.” Wade dug around in a drawer and handed Peter a Jolly Rancher. “I didn’t look at the flavor, so I don’t know what to expect. Give it a try.” 

“So I just eat and think about you.” Peter unwrapped the candy and popped it in his mouth. “Easy enough, right?” 

“Easy enough.” Wade confirmed. “And think nice things, will ya? Pretty sure it doesn’t work if you’re mentally bitching about how snarky I am, or how crazy I make you, or how– _mmmph_!!” 

He shut up when Peter suddenly kissed him, a green apple flavored tongue slipping past his lips and into his mouth, accompanied by a moan soft enough to make him  _melt_. 

“I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to work, Webs.” he breathed a laugh when Peter pulled away after a long moment. “I mean, I tasted green apple but I also ended up with a jolly rancher in my mouth, so–” he stuck out his tongue to show Peter the piece of candy that had been transferred during their kiss. “–That doesn’t really prove anything.” 

“Well, it proves I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time.” Peter kissed him again, licking through Wade’s mouth and dragging his teeth over his bottom lip. “So as long as you want to kiss me too, don’t matter if we’re soulmates, right?” 

“I dunno about that.” Wade pursed his lips for another one and Peter crushed their mouths together, looping his arms around Wade’s neck and holding him tight. “It matters to me. I want a soulmate. I want _you_ to be my soulmate. Can we figure it out?” 

“Okay.” Peter nodded. “But testing it out means I have to move, and I’d rather stay here and kiss you.” 

“And I don’t have a problem with that.” Wade eased away from the next one. “But I really want to know, Pete. Please?” 

“Okay. Okay okay okay.” Peter moved off Wade’s lap. “I’m going to go to the kitchen and eat something. You yell at me what it is, then you eat something and I’ll try to figure out what it is.” 

“Okay.” Wade waited anxiously for several minutes, chewing at his lip and desperately needing a cigarette to relive some of the tension and then– “Kung Pao Chicken!” he shouted. “You’re eating Kung Pao Chicken!” 

After a few seconds he added, “And it’s like a week old so maybe spit it out before it makes you sick!” 

“Your turn!” Peter shouted back and Wade dug through his snack drawer for something sweet, ripping off the wrapper and shoving the whole thing in his mouth. 

Silence from the kitchen, long enough that Wade started to worry and then Peter said from the doorway– “Nobody eats chocolate twinkies, Wade. Eat the normal ones or don’t eat them at all.” 

“I didn’t think you knew what it was.” Wade didn’t mean to sound so relieved, but judging by the way those dark eyes softened, Peter knew anyway. “You didn’t say anything.” 

“Well, all Hostess snacks pretty much taste the same.” Peter smiled, slow and happy. “I couldn’t decide if it was a chocolate Twinkie or a Ho-Ho, but you know–”

“They’re basically the same snack.” Wade said at the same time as Peter. “So. Soulmates?” 

“Sure looks like it.” Shyly, Peter playing with the edge of his sleeve. “How long have you known?” 

“Since the night of the BBQ incident.” 

“I threw up all night that night!” 

“Yeah, baby boy.” Wade nodded, raising his eyebrows pointedly. “I know. I remember.  _Vividly_.” 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Peter wailed. “Oh my  _god_! And you still wanted to hang out with me after that? Why? WHY!? I’m so sorry!” 

“Of course I did, you’re my soulmate– _ooph_!” Wade wheezed when Peter launched himself across the room and back onto his lap. “Don’t matter what you taste like, I’ll still want to kiss you.” 

“That’s sort of weird to say but I love it anyway.” Peter budged forward for a long kiss, drawing it out until Wade was panting against him, shifting on the bed and lifting his hips to rub against the curve of Peter’s rear. “Say more things like that.” 

“Pete–” 

“But also.” Peter interrupted. “No more cigarettes. I mean it. I’m tired of tasting like an ash tray.” 

“I‘ll work on it.” Wade promised. “I only smoke around you cause I’m nervous, you know? Need something to do with my hands.” 

“Here.” Peter pushed Wade’s hand down to his ass. “Now you have something to do with your hands.” 

“….and my mouth.” Wade added and Peter laughed at him. “But I feel like I could figure out something to do with that here pretty quick.” 

“Uh _yeah_ , I think you probably could.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Valentines Day Do-Over

Wade may or may not have screamed at the top of his lungs when he opened his eyes and to a Spidey hanging upside down over his bed, and he may or may not have instinctively swung wildly and clocked the upside down Spidey right in the nose, and there was no reliable witness to confirm that the now bleeding Spidey had retaliated by sticking Wade to the bed with enough webbing to contain an elephant but–

Well, Wade was stuck to the bed with enough webbing to contain an elephant and Peter’s nose was definitely bleeding and for some reason there were rose petals all over the floor and neither one of them knew exactly  _how_ or  _what_ had happened. 

“Wade.” Peter tipped his head back and pinched his nose to stem the bleeding. “Honestly, and I mean this from the bottom of my heard,  _what the fuck.”_

“Don’t you  _what the fuck_  me!” Wade retorted, struggling valiantly–and hopelessly– to free himself. “I get to what the fuck  _you_. Why are you in my room in the middle of the night?” 

“Why is your first reaction to seeing me to clock me?!” Peter cried. “I’m your boyfriend, you aren’t supposed to do things like that!” 

“It is three am and I woke up to a man sized bug hanging from my ceiling!” Wade bellowed. “If I hadn’t’ve clocked you, you would’ve bit me or some other bug-related shit!!” 

“I WAS NOT GOING TO EAT YOU I WAS TRYING TO BE ROMANTIC!” 

“THERE IS NOTHING ROMANTIC ABOUT LOOMING OVER SOMEONES BED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, YOU’RE DOIN’ ROMANCE WRONG!” 

Peter sulked for a minute and Wade glared for a minute longer, and finally Peter sighed and gestured to what was obviously a destroyed rose bouquet. “I bought you flowers for Valentines Day.”

“You bought me–” Wade wrinkled his nose. “ _Why_? Valentines Day was on Thursday and we already celebrated together.” 

“Yeah, I guess we did.” Peter finally made it over to turn on a light and Wade cursed when he saw the blood, jumping out of bed to get Peter a wet rag. “But I felt like maybe it hadn’t been exactly right, so I thought we could have a do over.” 

“What do you mean it wasn’t exactly right?” Wade held the rag to Peter’s nose, brushing through the thick hair with his other hand and pressing a rough kiss to his boyfriends forehead. “Sorry about your nose, babe.” 

“You should be.” Peter grumped, but he cuddled a little closer anyway, soaking in the sleep warmth still lingering around Wade. “I can’t believe you punched me.” 

“Giant bug hanging from my ceiling, Peter pie.” Wade reminded him, kissing him again just because he could. “My flight or flight instinct kicked in and lets be honest, you’re lucky I didn’t have a gun.” 

“Ugh, I know.” Peter batted away the rag once his nose was better. “We all remember the time you almost–” 

“–had that Incident That Shall Not Be Named.” Wade finished. “Yes, we all remember, thank you. Now that you’re not bleeding on my carpet, I’m going back to bed. You coming too?” 

“Yeah, yeah I’m coming.” Mournfully side stepping the remains of what had been a fairly expensive bouquet, Peter followed Wade back to the bed, shucking most of his clothes and climbing up and over until he was straddling Wade’s waist, tucked into his chest. 

“ _Mmmm_.” The big mercenary made a low, contented noise that was practically a growl, smoothing his hands down Peter’s back and patting at his ass teasingly. “I love when you lay right here.” 

“You’re just lucky I don’t get cramps from laying like this.” Peter countered, rubbing slow circles into Wade’s side. “And I’m sorry I scared you. I guess I could have come through the front door like a normal person.” 

“There ain’t nothin’ normal about us.” Wade allowed, shifting lower in the bed and holding Peter tighter. “Now what the hell are you talking about, Valentines Day didn’t go exactly right?” 

“Well–” Peter hesitated and Wade poked at him. “I mean, it was fine but–” 

“Pete, we put a gross baddie in jail. I got you drunk on hot pink tequlia shots and you are the sweetest, funniest,  _gropiest_ drunk I’ve ever met which is absolutely fantastic. We had fairly spectacular and  _wonderfully_ bendy sex on a roof.” Wade shrugged. “What else could we have done? That’s like our quota for a night.” 

“Right.” A quick nod. “No, you’re right. Got someone terrible off the streets, the tequila was awful but sort of fun. I do get more than a little handsy when I’m drunk so it’s not really surprising we ended up having sex.” 

“So why do you think we need a do over?” 

“You didn’t um–” Peter’s voice softened. “You didn’t say it. I thought you’d say it but you didn’t say it.” 

“I didn’t say it.” Wade repeated. “What do you mean I didn’t say it? What’s  _it_?”

Peter was quiet, plucking at the edges of Wade’s shirt anxiously, shifting uncomfortably as the silence stretched between them. 

“You didn’t say I love you.” whispered into the near dark. “I thought you were waiting to say it until Valentines Day, but then we had a great night and you didn’t– you didn’t say it.” 

 _Oh_. Wade’s eyes flew open wide.  _Oh shit_. 

“I mean,” Peter cleared his throat. “I figured you’d say it first because you are more spontaneous and that sort of thing. Plus you  _always_ say things first. You have zero filter. But you didn’t, so maybe the day wasn’t all that great?” 

“You thought–” Words failed, so Wade wet his lips and tried again. “You thought I didn’t say I love you because the day wasn’t  _great_?” 

“So I brought you roses.” Peter either didn’t notice or didn’t care that Wade tensed beneath him. “And I figured I’d surprise you and we could do that one thing you really like and maybe it would be romantic enough that you would say–” 

“You wanted a do-over because you thought we needed more  _romance_ for me to say that?” Wade shot up to sitting, then wheezed when Peter locked down around him in surprise. “ _ACK_! Holy spidey strength for the love of  _god_ don’t squeeze so tight!!!” 

“Sorry, sorry.” Peter relaxed his grip so Wade could breathe again. “Sorry, you moved too fast.” 

“My bad.” Wade coughed a few times. “Anyway, is that why you think I didn’t say I loved you? Because there wasn’t enough romance?” 

“Why else wouldn’t you say it?” Peter ducked his head, but Wade cupped his jaw and forced him back up. “Unless you don’t–” 

“Stop.” Wade said firmly and pushed a long kiss onto Peter’s mouth. “C’mon Pete, you know I love you. I’ve been ass over noggin for you for ages, you know that.” 

“But you’ve never said it.” Peter countered. “And I thought you would on Valentines Day. Why didn’t you?” 

“I didn’t think you’d believe me.” Wade said slowly, letting rough fingers track along Peter’s jawline before resting his hand at the back of Peter’s neck. “I have been known in the past to occasionally do stupid things just because the day calls for it–” 

“ _Occasionally_?” 

“Some would say often.” he corrected and Peter smiled a little. “I didn’t want you to think I was saying it just because it was Valentines Day. Figured you wouldn’t believe me if I said it post-sex because I say all  _sortsa_ stupid shit post sex. And since you were drunk, I didn’t think you would remember even if I  _did_ say it.” 

“Oh.” Peter deflated a little bit. “So you–” 

“You brought me roses and snuck into my room to do that one sex thing I like just so I’d tell you I love you?” Wade raised his eyebrows and Peter turned bright red. “Because that sounds like something I would do. Are you doing things that I would usually do, Pete? Because if  _that’s_ the game we are playing–” 

“ _Wade_.” Peter tried to pull away when Wade started laughing at him. “I’m being serious.” 

“Baby boy.” Wade was still chuckling, but he gathered Peter close and gave him another kiss, drawing it out until Peter was melting in his arms. “I’m being serious too. I love you so much, and I  _was_ waiting until a good time to tell you, a time when you wouldn’t have any doubt at all that I mean it.”

“Yeah?” Peter asked shyly. “You love me?” 

“You know I do.” Wade said seriously. “ _Of course_  I do. I’ve loved you since the first time you webbed me to a wall for making a lewd comment about your spandexy power squat. And I loved you a little more for coming back and unsticking me from the wall so we could go eat.” 

“And you didn’t tell me because you thought I wouldn’t believe you?” 

“I don’t have the best track record for saying things at the right time.” Wade admitted. “And this was something I didn’t want to say at the wrong time. But I feel bad that you thought we needed a do-over just so I’d say it.” 

He waited a beat, and added. “And I feel bad that I punched you and ruined your roses because you bringing me flowers is pretty fucking cute.” 

Another second– “And I feel bad–”

“If you’re going to start listing things you’re sorry for, we’re going to be here all night.” Peter warned and Wade wrestled him back down onto the bed, covering him in a long kiss. 

“Snickerdoodle, I  _want_ you here all night, ya feel me? That’s what _I love you_  means.” 

“I love you too.” Peter’s grin stretched far enough to be silly. “So yay us.” 

“Yay us.” Wade repeated, bumping their noses together playfully. “So. No do over needed, alright?” 

“No do over needed.” Softly, sweetly, Peter’s cheeks tinting pink with happiness. 

“And the rose petals all over the floor sort of make this romantic, right?” 

“It’s a little romantic, yeah.” 

“ _So_.” Wade’s eyes lit mischievously. “About that sex thing that I like—”

“No way.” Peter shook his head immediately and Wade gasped in horror. “I was only offering that if we needed a do over but you just said we don’t need one so–” he shrugged. “Congratulations. You played yourself.” 

“Damn it.” Wade flopped back onto the bed with a huff. “I knew I should have held out longer for the I love you.”

“Yeah, you really should have.” Peter climbed onto Wade’s waist and snuggled in tight. “Too late for special sex things now, I already know you love me.”

“You already know I love you.” Wade pulled the covers up around Peter’s shoulders and closed his eyes in contentment. “Real shame that.” 

**********************

_{{for those of you that follow me on tumblr, but read the fics on here, there is a bonus Sundays with Spideypool posted on my[ **Ko-Fi** ](https://ko-fi.com/B0B1AQGB)page for supporters!}}_


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the one where Wade's Aggressively Canandian because I've been watching too much LetterKenny and its ruining my life.   
> Not good for much more than a laugh, don't take this one too seriously

Peter bolted out of his last class of the day and made it all of two steps off the college campus before taking to the sky, webbing his way through the skyscrapers and discarding clothes as he went until he was just in his suit, webbing as fast as he could towards he and Wade’s usual meeting spot. 

Wade had been gone three days now, and Peter was so ready to  ~~fuck kiss~~ see his boyfriend he was practically gagging for it. 

Sure, Wade had been gone longer than this before, and to much father places– Canada was not even half a day’s drive away after all– but he had told Peter _I love you_  before leaving this time and  _damn it_  Peter couldn’t wait to hear it again now that Wade was home. 

“Wade!” he shouted as the their regular rooftop came into view and he caught sight of red and black spandex posted up against the big AC unit. “WADE!” 

Wade turned around just in time to catch an armful of Spidey, staggering under the weight and laughing out loud as Peter glommed onto him, tearing off their masks to crush a kiss to Wade’s mouth. 

“I missed you.” Peter threw both arms around Wade’s neck and kissed him again. “I missed you! I’m so glad you’re home!” 

“Pete.” Wade grinned and ran his fingers through Peter’s hair. “How’r’ya now?” 

“How–” Peter scrunched his nose. “How am I? I’m fine. I’m fine babe, how are you?” 

“Oh, not so bad.” Wade kissed him one more time. “City didn’t burn down while I was gone, huh?” 

“Uh, nope.” Peter poked his boyfriend in the ribs. “Why are you talking weird?” 

“I’m talking the same way I always talk.” Wade jabbed him back. “Time to save the city?” 

“Time to save the city, Peter confirmed, and left one last kiss on Wade’s mouth before jamming on his mask. “Lets–” 

“Pitter Patter!” Wade yelled as he vaulted off the roof. “Let’s git at’er!” 

“Pitter patter–  _what_?!” 

******************

“Hey asshole.” Peter shoved one of the baddies probably a little harder than necessary, but to be fair, the guy had tried to mug a sweet little old lady and left her lying in the mud and that just wasn’t going to be tolerated. “Next time pick on someone your own size. Like me, or maybe your not so friendly neighborhood mercenary over there.” He jerked a thumb towards Wade. “Maybe you’ll think twice about being a dick to old ladies.” 

“Maybe next time you stay home and mix a batch.” Wade pulled a cigarette out and lit up. “Fire a few wristers then crush a nappy, do a degen a lot better than dancin’ around getting your ass beat by our favorite arachnid, eh?”

“…what did he just say?” One baddie whispered to the other, and then to Peter, “What did he say?” 

“I have no fucking idea.” Peter stared at Wade in confusion. “Pool, what did you just say?” 

“You heard me.” Wade blew a cloud of smoke, then eyed the cigarette in appreciation. “You know expensive these things are back home? Thing’s damn near a buck a dart, God bless the USA and cheap cigs, you know?” 

“I literally don’t know.” Peter waved the smoke away. “Come on, let’s leave these boys for the cops and find something else to do.” 

******************

“When you said  _something else_ , I thought you meant patrol.” Wade was laughing as Peter pushed him through the door of the apartment and towards the bedroom. “But m’not gonna say no to a toe-curler.” 

“A toe curler.” Peter repeated, pausing with his hand halfway down Wade’s pants. “What the fuck is a toe curler?” 

“If you have to ask then you’ve never had one and I take serious offense to that.” Wade said solemnly. “Have to fix that one up, won’t I?” 

“Okay no no, stop.” Peter planted his feet and refused to move when Wade shoved at him. “You’ve been talking fucking weird all night and I want an explanation.” 

“I haven’t been–” 

“You drop kicked that guy off the dock and then shouted  _Ferda_ as you jumped in to save him.” Peter started counting off on his fingers. “Pulled your gun and when the baddie back down, you called him 10-ply and laughed hysterically for like, six minutes.” 

“It wasn’t that–” 

“It was six minutes, Wade. You asked for all dressed chips as an appy at the Mexican place, then loudly announced that their chimi’s give you the scoots? What the fuck are the scoots?” 

“Uh, like the trots?” 

“That didn’t clear it up.” Peter shook his head. “But I don’t want to know. I  _would_ like to know why you shouted  _figure it out_  at least four times while sounding very annoyed, and why you told that guy who yelled at you to give his balls a tug? That’s just gross. And also–” 

“You got a lotta questions, baby boy.” Wade framed Peter’s face with his hands and bumped their noses together. “But all you need to know is that I’d never give up this big city slam for any of those puck bunnies or small town snipes back home, alright?” 

“…that isn’t anything I need to know.” Peter said flatly. “I have no idea what you just said. What’s a snipe. Whats a puck bunny? Are you calling me a big city slam? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!” 

“Look, I spend a few days back home, I start talking all Canadian again.” Wade shrugged. “It will wear off, it always does.” 

“No, I know a  _lot_ of Canadians and none of them talk like this.” Peter pointed out. “I’ve hung out with Logan lots of times and he’s never shouted  _Bardownski_ while whipping a rock off a lamp post and beaning someone in the head with it!” 

“But to be fair? Logan sucks.” Wade started pulling Peter down the hall towards the bedroom again. “And also, your accent is way off. You sound like an American pretending to be Canadian and it’s honestly embarrassing.” 

“Oh my god.” Peter flopped down onto the bed and waited for Wade to undress. “So what am I looking at, three days of this nonsense?”  

“Yeah, probably three days and the I’ll start talking like a New Yorker again.” Wade made a face. “Because we all love how Brooklynites talk.” Peter groaned and Wade tickled at his feet. “Aren’t you glad I’m home, pumpkin doodle?” 

“….it varies from minute to minute.” Peter leaned up for a kiss. “But it’s looking better now that we’re naked.” 

“Well then.” The big merc waggled his non existent eyebrows. “Pitter patter!” 

“WADE!” 

“Oh hush.” Wade threw a shoe at the light to turn it off. “Just wait till I take you home with me, you’ll be talking like a fuckin’ hick by the end of the night.” 

“There’s no way I’m going to Canada with you.” 

“Sure there is.” he said confidently. “Cable has a super soft birthday planned and you are definitely coming to it with me. There’s gonna be a unicorn and everything.” 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Peter touches Wade all the time and Wade has zero issue with it. 
> 
> This is pure plotless fluff.

Peter touched Wade all the time. 

It had started when they were still just Spidey and Deadpool, with Peter sitting closer than strictly necessary when they were on patrol or letting their arms brush as they walked or making sure they sat back to back to eat so Peter could tip his head back against Wade’s shoulder. 

When the partnership changed to a little  _more_ and masks and clothes came off, Peter was asking Wade over almost every night and not quite  _whining_ when Wade would get dressed to leave again, but pretty close to it, urging Wade back for longer and longer kisses and asking him to just stay, just  _stay_. 

By the time they were officially in love and had moved in together, Peter didn’t go more than a few minutes at a time without touching Wade in some way. They held hands simply because they could, Peter insisted on being the small spoon every night so he could feel Wade wrapped around him and Wade couldn’t sit for more than a minute at a time without Peter clambering onto his lap and snuggling close. 

There were afternoons where Peter sat and read, one hand swiping pages on his e-reader, the other slipped under the waistband of Wade’s pants to rub his thumb over Wade’s hipbone. 

Mornings where Wade made pancakes and Peter sat on the counter asking for kisses in between bites, blushing and grinning when Wade gave him one every single time. 

Nights when they started and finished together two and three different times, over and over until Wade was wrung out and Peter was gasping for breath and even then Peter was bringing Wade back, pressing against him and not willing to let go until they’d both fallen asleep, sticky and mostly likely gross but too wrapped up in each other to care. 

And Wade didn’t care. He would never tire of Peter wanting to touch him, to hold him, and he hoped Peter would never  _ever_ stop. 

“Am I needy?” Peter asked one day out of the blue, pausing mid bite and turning on Wade’s lap to frown down at him. 

“Why would you ask that, baby boy?” Wade feigned surprise. “Is it because you are currently sitting on my lap having me feed you an egg roll one bite at a time while we watch your favorite movie and snuggle under your favorite blanket?” 

“Yes, that’s exactly why.” Peter grinned unrepentantly. “Am I needy?” 

“No.” Wade kissed his cheek and Peter automatically turned for one of his lips. “Because I need this just as much as you do. If both of us are needy then neither of us are needy, that’s just how it works.” 

“So this is isn’t high maintenance?” Peter gestured between them. “Gwen told me that it wasn’t normal for me to be all over you like this all the time.” 

“Gwen can stuff it.” Wade said flatly. “Besides there’s nothing about our life that’s even close to normal. After all the shit we see and have to deal with, I’d be more worried if you  _never_ wanted to be touched. You see bad stuff and want to crawl into bed with me to forget it? I’m fine with that.” 

“Okay.” Peter wriggled a little closer and Wade took a bite of his own food. “But I’m definitely clingy, right?” 

“Like one of those stickers people put on their cars.” Wade declared. “Like velcro. Like glitter that gets on yours hands and seven years later it’s still there. Like cheap sticky putty that never comes out of carpets. Like that terrible lube we tried that one that time–” 

“WADE!” Peter clapped his hand over Wade’s mouth. “Okay, so I’m clingy. Is that– I mean, should I stop? Do you mind?” 

“Do I mind?” Wade repeated and put the food down to wrap the blanket even tighter around Peter’s shoulders, pulling him further into his lap. “Pete, I don’t want there to ever be a day you don’t want to cling to me. Stuck like glue, alright? I love it. Activate those sticky fingers of yours and climb on me like a damn back pack, I don’t care. I love it.” 

“Okay.” Peter burrowed even closer. “I am sort of a  _little_ needy, aren’t I?” 

“Never.” Wade lied and Peter laughed up at him. “I have no idea why you would think that.” 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one is for @witchy-cats who wanted Peter having ridiculously cute sneezes and Wade dying over it.

It was just a little noise, barely noticeable in the grand scheme of things but entirely out of place in the middle of a dirty alley and mid-brawl with some baddies. 

Wade heard it once and didn’t think anything about it– this was New York after all, he was just fine not knowing what most of the sounds he heard were– but when it happened again he finished the baddie off with one punch and looked around in bewilderment. 

“What the hell was that?” 

“What the hell was what?” Peter webbed his baddie to the wall. “What did you hear?” 

“I dunno it was like a—” Wade kicked at a couple of boxes to see if anything was hiding. “I dunno like a mouse had a squeaky fart or something.” 

“Charming.” Peter said dryly. “Let’s leave these guys for the cops and keep going, yeah?” 

“Sure.” Wade glanced around one more time. “Sure, let’s go.” 

They got busy with the usual patrol things and Wade forgot all about the mysterious noise until they stopped for a 2 am snack, sharing a bag of greasy burgers and overly salty fries and–

“There it is again!” he exclaimed, jerking around as fast as he could to try and find the source. “Tell me you hear that, Pete! What the hell is it?” 

“I didn’t hear anything, Pool.” Peter stuffed most of a hamburger in his mouth. “Maybe you’re hearing the squeak of your spandex when you move.” 

“Rude.” 

“Or maybe you stepped in something gross and its your shoes.” 

“That’s valid, but also rude.” 

“Let it go, Wade.” Peter tossed their trash away. “We got people to save and jerks to beat up and you’re worried about noises? Stop being so weird.” 

“Fine.” Wade huffed. “But when I figure out what is going on, I’m going to rub it in your face.” 

“Yeah yeah yeah.” Peter waved him off. “Talk talk talk. Do something useful and help me chase these sirens. That IS a noise you should care about.” 

*********************

It was pushing five am by the time they slowed down again, and Peter slumped against Wade’s side as they sat on the roof watching the sun come up.

“You alright, Spidey?” Wade put a careful arm around Peter’s shoulders and squeezed him lightly. They had been sort of doing this sort of thing lately and he never wanted to rush it. “Tired?” 

“Tired?” Peter agreed, pressing closer and yawning. “My allergies are acting up so I’m all stuff up and–” 

_A-a-a-tsoo!_

The tiniest little noise escaped Peter, nothing more than a squeak and sort of a sigh and shiver and Wade froze and Peter froze and then Wade said–

“Um, what the fuck was that? And how do I get it to happen again?” 

“…that…that was a sneeze.” 

“It was not in fact a sneeze.” Wade jabbed Peter in the ribs. “It was like a bunny getting a case of the sniffles! Like a kitten who got in the catnip! Like a mouse–” 

“–if you say my sneeze sounds like a mouse farting, I will kick you off this roof.” Peter threatened. 

“Okay, then I won’t say it.” Wade poked at Peter again. “But seriously? That’s the noise I’ve been hearing all night? That’s your sneeze?” 

“If you make fun of me–” 

“It’s so cute I could die.” Wade announced and despite his embarrassment, Peter started to laugh. “Literally the cutest thing I’ve ever heard in the world. How do you sneeze like that? Did you sneeze like that before the spider bite? Is it because if you sneeze too hard you’ll shoot webs out your nose? That’s why, isn’t it?” 

“No Wade, it’s not because I’ll shoot webs out of my nose.” Peter lifted his mask up just so Wade could see him roll his eyes. “That’s never happened.”

“Well then why are you so weird about it! It’s like the sound a fairy makes when she finds a little crumpet leftover from tea!” 

“That sentence made no sense.” Peter snuggled back into Wade’s side. “Its just, you know– I’ve been made fun of for a lot of things in my life. Highschool wasn’t super fun for me and then one day I sneezed super loud and scared the teacher or something and kids  _suck_ so they started messing with me about it and I dunno.” he shrugged. “It made me feel weirder than I already did, so I started trying not to sneeze in front of people, or at least to sneeze quietly.” 

“And what that evolved into what is essentially a the sound of a surprised hamster grandma?” 

“….sure.” 

“Well it’s adorable.” Wade dropped a kiss on Peters head. “End of discussion.” 

A few minutes later, Peter muttered, “You’re stupid but I think I love you.” and Wade cheerfully whispered back, “Damn straight, kitten whiskers.” 


	15. Boundaries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My favorite thing about Spideypool is their unorthodox, awkward, and fairly TMI communication skills, so have some fluffy and funny relationship negotiations and enough sweetness and supportive Spideypool feels to rot your teeth.

In the beginning, Peter had lots of boundaries and Wade had exactly zero, which meant they had to have The Talk no less than two dozen times as Wade inevitably blundered over a boundary and Peter learned to speak up and communicate  _before_ things took a turn for the worse. . 

“Okay, you have got to ask before just taking my mask off.” Peter scowled at Wade and yanked his mask back over his face. “This is my  _identity_ , Wade. Someone showing up and snatching it off isn’t just sort of scary, but also a…” he hesitated. “Well, it’s a little violating to be honest. You wouldn’t run up and rip my shirt off, don’t do it to my mask.” 

“Noted and noted.” Wade held both hands up apologetically. “It won’t happen again, Spidey-babe. Very sorry.” 

“Thank you.” Peter lifted his mask up to his nose before standing up on tip toes to press a very light kiss to Wade’s mouth. “I appreciate it.” 

“Ain’t no thang, pumpkin doodle.” Wade pulled Peter back for a longer kiss, a goofy smile on his face because  _yay_ he got to kiss Spidey. “For the record, you can always take my mask off anytime you want. Just be prepared for the mess you find under it. “

“Noted and noted.” Peter repeated, and then softer, “You’re not a mess, Wade.” 

“Let’s agree to disagree on that.” 

*********************

Around their four or five month mark, Peter had less boundaries but still  _some_ boundaries and Wade still had exactly zero and they had a rather impromptu but apparently needed Talk at about three am one night. 

“Pete!” Wade yelped when Peter lashed out and kicked him, sending him through the bedroom hall, the hallway and through the living room wall to crash into the couch. 

“Wade!” Peter jumped off the bed and darted over to where Wade was coughing up drywall. “Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. You just startled me!” 

“Oh you were startled.” Wade blinked up at him from the floor. “You were startled? I was trying to give you a good night kiss and you Spidey kicked my ass through three different walls!  _YOU’RE_ STARTLED!?!” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Peter brushed the debris from Wade’s chest. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting you to be there when I rolled over. You can’t just sneak into my bed, you have got to tell me you’re there.” 

“How did you  _not_ know I was there?” Wade pointed out with a huff. “Last week you twacked out for a whole hour because you  _knew_ there was a mouse in the apartment and your Spidey sense wouldn’t calm the hell down. How does two hundred pounds of sexy spandex climb in bed and you don’t even stop snoring?” 

“Its um–” Peter blushed and Wade cocked his head curiously. 

“Pete?” 

“It’s um–” Peter scratched at his hair sheepishly. “My Spidey sense doesn’t work around you, Wade.” 

“….what does that mean?” 

“It means… well it means that everyone else in this city sets it off somehow.” Peter was blushing harder now and Wade really thought he’d melt watching it. “Even Aunt May, because I worry about her? I am aware of everyone all the time and it pulls my attention everywhere but with you that’s not what happens.” 

“….keep talking.” Wade shook the last of the dust off. “What does that mean?” 

“It means that when you’re with me, I’m completely calm.” Peter finally finished. “I’m not worried, I’m not anxious, I don’t even have to think about what I’m doing because  _you’re_ there. I didn’t feel you climb in bed with me because it just- it just is fine.” 

“And then you woke up–” 

“And panicked because someone was next to me.” Peter’s smile was beyond embarrassed. “I realized it was you right away but I’d already kicked you. I’m real sorry babe.” 

“For the record, it’s fucking adorable that I don’t set off your weird Spidey alarms.” Wade tugged Peter close and kissed his head. “But from now on, I’ll make sure I text you before I come over.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Also, I want it written down that never once have I kicked you out of bed, while you literally kicked me out of the room. As of right now, I am winning in the relationship stuff.” 

“Oh my god.” 

*********************

At almost a year in Peter had even lessboundaries and Wade still had exactly zero, so they only had The Talk about about less important things, usually over snacks and soda, usually curled up together on Wade’s couch after patrol. 

“Bondage?” Wade asked and Peter thought for a moment before replying, “Yes, but I don’t want to be blindfolded. It sorta sends everything else in to overdrive and it might be fun for other people? But Spidey senses on overdrive is just migraines and anxiety for me.” 

“Fair.” Wade put most of a corn dog into his mouth, and when he saw Peter watching, tore it off with a growl that made Peter shriek and cover his crotch. 

“NO TEETH!” Peter announced and once Wade stopped cackling over Peter’s expression, the merc added, “I’m fine with teeth as long as its not on my Jolly Roger. Bite me the fuck up, baby boy.” 

“Your Jolly Roger?” Peter started to ask and then promptly changed his mind. “Scratch that. Okay, what about labels? Are we dating? I’m okay with being called boyfriend but I don’t want you to get all possessive and jealous about it.” 

“Whatevs baby boy.” Wade shrugged. “We don’t have to label if you don’t want to, just let me know how you want to handle it. How do you feel about horror movies?” 

“Anything but spiders.” Peter said promptly. “I don’t like seeing my people portrayed like that on the big screen.” 

Wade laughed until he about cried and The Talk derailed  _spectacularly_ when Peter jumped over to shut him up and they ended up wrestling and then making out and then…

Well anyway, The Talk derailed.

***********************

By their two  year anniversary, Peter had exactly zero boundaries and Wade had exactly one and it came up one night very unexpectedly, their first Talk they’d had in months. 

Wade had been home for all of six hours from a mission he didn’t really want to talk about so they had done the thing where they didn’t  _have_ to talk and Peter was about two minutes from losing his damn mind because honestly, how could he need Wade this much when they’d only been apart for a week and–

“Pete, Pete, stop.” Wade broke away from their kiss and Peter let him go in surprise. “Just stop alright, I need a minute.” 

“Baby?” Peter sat up slowly on the bed, making a half hearted attempt to fit his jeans back up on his hips. “Everything alright?” 

“You um–” Wade closed his eyes for a second. “You never tell me no.” 

“I never tell you no.” Peter repeated. “Okay. That’s– okay. Should I be telling you no?” 

“Yes.” Wade nodded vehemently and Peter tried very hard not to look quite so fucking confused. “Yes Pete, you should be telling no.” 

“Okay.” he said slowly. “But like… when? When do you want me to tell you no, babe?” 

“Anytime you want.” 

“Anytime I–” 

“You never tell me no!” Wade’s voice rose. “Last week I snatched you off the street and into an alley and fucked you up against a fire escape!” 

“And you… you want me to say no to that next time.” Peter was still lost, spreading his hands helplessly. “I don’t think I know what you’re trying to say.” 

“You just never really  _say_ anything either way.” Wade looked just as frustrated as Peter felt. “You don’t say no, you don’t say yes. I need to know that you want things, Pete. Because if you don’t say anything then I don’t know, and that’s not good. I need to know.” 

“You need to know that I want things.” Peter thought over Wade’s words for a minute, then his voice went very very soft when he asked, “You want me to know that I  _can_ say no to you, you mean?” 

Wade nodded. 

“And I don’t ever say no.” Peter continued. “But I don’t ever really come right out and say  _yes_ to things either.” 

“My fault.” Wade interrupted. “Because I should ask and I don’t.” 

Silence in the bedroom for a minute and then Peter– “I’m only gonna ask once because I know you don’t want to talk about it, but just nod yes or no for me. Does this have something to do with what happened on your mission?” 

Wade nodded, just once and Peter tucked away the questions and the fear and the anger that was suddenly threatening to choke him and said very simply, “I will always tell you yes, Wade. And when I need to, I’ll tell you no. But I promise you’ll always know, alright?” 

Wade pulled him back into his arms and they curled up close together, the urgency of their moment before lost behind the seriousness of this particular boundary. 

“Thank you.” 

*********************

Peter had zero boundaries these days and Wade only had the one so when Wade opened Peter’s window and hauled himself in from the fire escape, he didn’t bother waking Peter up to let him know he was there, he just slid under the covers and gathered his boyfriend close. 

Peter had zero boundaries now and Wade only had the one, so the wall crawler didn’t even blink when he felt Wade’s hands at his waist and then pushing his sleep pants down so they could be naked, their legs tangling and thighs rubbing. 

Peter had zero boundaries these days but Wade still had the one, so he budged up tight to Peter’s back and whispered, “Pete, is this okay?” as his fingers started to trail down further, his own cock hardening against that ridiculously plump rear. 

And Peter rolled over until they were nose to nose, crushing a sweet, hungry kiss to Wade’s mouth and making sure Wade could see the truth in his eyes as he whispered back, “Yes baby, the answer is always yes.” 

“But it can be–” 

“I know it can be.” Peter kissed him again, long and slow and as loving as he possibly could, soothing the hurt that Wade still carried inside him as a secret. “But the answer is yes.” 

“I love you.” 

“Wade–” Peter arched his back at that first touch, at the first hint of pressure and the feel of Wade against him. “Wade, I love you.” 

 

 


	16. Suns Up, Buns Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade and Peter figure out who gets to top

“Sun’s up, buns up baby boy.” Wade patted at Peter’s butt playfully, then laughed when the kid automatically stuck his ass in the air and wiggled it invitingly. “Not that you aren’t ridiculously cute wearing my jammie pants, but we got things to do today, so up and at ‘em.” 

“I  _am_ up and at ‘em.” Peter’s complaint was muffled in the pillows, but the way his hand disappeared into the front of the flannel pajamas made his meaning abundantly clear. “ _You_ get up and at ‘em.”

“I slept next to you last night.” Wade lay a very soft kiss on Peter’s shoulder blade. “I have been  _up and at ‘em_ for about six solid hours.” 

“That was a weirdly sweet thing to say.” Peter finally peeked up at him from behind a pile of sleep mussed hair. “I mean, it was definitely weird, but also sort of sweet in a terrible, horny way.” 

“Okay, well at least I didn’t shove my ass in the air the moment I woke up!” Wade defended, smacking at the aforementioned booty hard enough to make it jiggle. “Be a little less of a bottom, Pete.” 

“Bold words coming from someone who has yet to bend me over and fuck me stupid.” Peter was back to mumbling in the pillows, burrowing back under the covers and closing his eyes tight. “I can’t be a bottom if there’s no one on top.” 

“ _Wow_.” Wade felt around beneath the blankets for Peter’s foot and yanked him right off the bed and onto the floor and Peter shrieked at the top of his lungs at suddenly being cold. “Look at you being a cranky pants on a Sunday morning!”

“Take my pants off and I won’t be cranky!” Peter challenged and then shrieked again when Wade ripped the flannel right off and chucked it towards the other side of the room. “Maybe put your money–” It was hard to be sassy when they were naked, but damn it did Peter try. “– where your mouth is and–” he  _oophed_ as Wade rolled so Peter was on top. “– make me a little less–” 

“Oh my god, shut up!”Wade said in exasperation and Peter’s laugh cut off abruptly against a messy kiss. “I’ll put a five dollar bill over my dick if you put your mouth where  _my_ money is.” 

“Wade.” It was laughably easy for Peter to reposition so  _Wade_ was back on top, tapping into the barest bit of his Spidey strength to get the mouthy merc where he wanted. “This is the worst sexy times negotiation I’ve ever been apart of.” 

“Which is saying something–” Wade gave up trying to get Peter back on top of him and flailed wildly about looking for their lube instead. “–since your ex is Harry and he is the literal worst.” 

“Maybe let’s not talk about Harry when we’re naked.” 

“Yeah, that’s fair.” 

******************

“So speaking of Harry….” Wade said casually,  _oh_ so casually after they’d finished and showed and got into enough clothes to go out for breakfast. 

“We aren’t speaking of Harry.” Peter frowned at him over a bite of breakfast burrito. “We’re never speaking of Harry, babe. Never do I ever want to have a conversation over breakfast about my ex boyfriend. What’s wrong with you?” 

“Well I just–” Wade cleared his throat a few times until Peter flicked a piece of cheese at him to make him stop. “– I mean, you were with him a long time.” 

“Three years.” Peter confirmed. “We done with this now?” 

“And I was just wondering–” Wade continued desite Peter’s groan of annoyance. “– how long it was with him before you started the mating dance of the beast with two backs. Like when did you start that whole two step tango? The clothing optional shenanigans? The game of toss and catch where the only glove is a condom and there are four balls?” 

“Four balls– ” Peter turned bright red. “WADE! Just say sex!” 

“Why would I say sex when there are so many wonderful–” 

“–terrible–”

“–euphimisms for it?” 

“Because we’re in public?” Peter pointed out, scarlet to the tips of his ears. “And I never want you to call it clothing optional shenanigans again?” 

“Noted. So how long was it?” Wade took a bite of his own food so he wouldn’t seem quite so anxious. “Because we’ve been doing this adorable little rom-com bullshit for like five months, seventeen days and a handful of hours and I have yet to–” Wade made a motion crude enough to make orange juice come out of Peter’s nose. “You know?” 

“Fuck me, I’m going to be breathing orange juice for a week.” Peter wheezed, snatching at some napkins. “What the fuck!” 

“Sorry about the citrus in the ol’ nose canal.” Wade said blandly. “But serious talk, sweet cheeks. What’s going on? We’ve done everything  _else_ , but not  _that_ yet and I’m wondering why. Is it me? Is it you? Trust issues? Commitment issues? Do I need to propose? Because I will. I will propose right the hell now, don’t you tempt me.” 

“Please god, don’t propose.” Peter held up his hand to stop Wade’s rambling, but then– “I mean, don’t propose  _yet_.” 

“Yeah?” Wade raised an eyebrow and Peter smiled a little shyly before continuing–

“Its not anything… big. You haven’t really made a move towards that, so I haven’t either.” he shrugged. “I figured we were just waiting.” 

“I haven’t made a move.” Wade blinked at him. “I haven’t– Pete, do you  _remember_ this morning?” 

“When you patted my ass and said _suns up, buns up_  instead of _good morning_ like a normal boyfriend?” Peter asked sarcastically. “Yeah, I remember.” 

“No I meant the slidey naked times that happened after my spectacularly clever greeting.” Wade scooped most of the hash browns of Peter’s plate. “Was that not enough of a move for you?” 

“Yeah, I guess.” Peter shrugged half heartedly. “But I mean, handjobs are different than real sex. I figured if you wanted  _real_ sex you’d do something different.” 

“Something different.” Wade repeated and narrowed his eyes at Peter. “So it’s my job to make a move towards real sex?” 

“Yes.” Peter pointed his fork at Wade when he came back for more hash browns. “That’s exactly what I mean.” 

“Why is it  _my_ job?” Wade whined. “Why can’t you be a needy little bottom and beg for it?” 

“Call me a needy little bottom again, and you’re gonna have to go back to fucking your plushie on Tuesday nights.” Peter warned. “Don’t push it, Wade.” 

“Oh yeah?” Wade’s voice suddenly had a weird note to it. “You uh– not always a needy little bottom, huh? Not every time?” 

“What?” Peter frowned.”No. No, I’m not always needy.” 

“Right, right.” A quick nod. “That’s what I meant.” 

“You’re being weird about this.” 

“You’re the one who thinks handjobs aren’t real sex, Peter pumpkin. Let’s be careful about who is calling who  _weird_ , huh?” 

“Oh my god.” 

*******************

“You wanna be on top?” Wade asked one night as they were making out and Peter paused, then nodded and wiggled out from beneath Wade to straddle his waist. 

“Yeah, is this okay?” 

“Uh, yep.” Wade wasn’t going to say he was disappointed because  _boy howdy_ did Wade Jr. perk the fuck up having that solid Spidey-weight settled on top of him, but it hadn’t been  _exactly_ what he meant. 

Still good though. Still good.

*******************

“ _Shit_.” Wade gasped when Peter shoved him up against the wall, then made a noise that was less a gasp and more of an embarrassingly high pitched whine when Peter pushed him to his knees. “Jesus  _Christ_ , baby boy.” 

“You look good down there.” Peter sort of–sort of  _growled_  like he was testing it out and Wade may or may not have came in his pants. 

Thank god for costumes that more or less camoflauged that sort of thing. 

So good. So  _so_ good.

*******************

“We’re out of lube.” Peter announced and Wade shrugged and then Peter said, “Guess I could just eat you out, huh?” and Wade almost choked on his own tongue so Peter backpedaled into– “Or not. That’s fine. Sorry, I didn’t know if you’d like that or not. Some tops do, sorry.” 

Wade was still trying to find his brain so he didn’t manage a comment, but Peter was getting naked anyway so it didn’t matter. 

They needed to revisit that conversation ASAP.

******************

“Wade what are you–” 

“ _Ouch_! That was my thigh!” 

“–stop wriggling!” 

“Why the hell are you sitting like that!” 

“You said you wanted me on top!” 

“Yeah, so why are you not on top!?” 

“You keep spreading your legs when I try to sit on you!” 

“So don’t sit on me then!” 

“Oh, should I just lay down on top of you and flop around like a fish? Yeah, that sounds real sexy.” 

“….wait, what? Did you say fish? How did we get on fish? I’m not pescatarian Pete, fish don’t do it for me.” 

“That’s not what pescatarian mean, babe.” 

“I don’t care what it means! Would you figure out what the hell you’re doing, please?” 

“We really need to have a talk about who goes  _where_ in this thing.” 

“Okay but can we talk about it after I had a chance to come, because even though you can’t figure out how to get on top, Wade Jr is still  _very_ invested.” 

“I hate you.” 

“No you don’t.”

“Ugh. No I don’t.” 

********************

The bedroom door broke when Peter pushed at it, he and Wade stumbling over their feet trying to get to the bed because they weren’t willing to stop kissing long enough to see where the hell they were going. 

Peter hit the bed first, scrambled onto stomach and shoved his ass into the air–

–and looked next to him to see Wade doing exactly the same thing.

“What–” 

“How the–” 

“Well, I mean we  _both_ can’t be like this.” 

“Right. Wade looked– did he look disappointed?– and Peter looked– well maybe a little resigned?– but once they were naked the awkward moment was mostly forgotten and it still wasn’t real sex (not according to Peter anyway) but it was still  _great_ and Wade was pretty sure he was seeing stars and Peter was just as wrecked laying next to him, so they let it go. 

It was fine.

********************

Peter paced back and forth outside of Wade’s apartment for a good twenty minutes psyching himself up for what was sure to be a very awkward conversation. 

“Hey babe, so I know we’ve been trying to find the right time to actually have sex, but before we do there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.” he said under his breath, and then shook his head. “No, that’s terrible. Sounds like I’m going to tell him I have a disease.” 

“Hey Wade, we should flip heads or tails for who is bottoming.” Peter shook his head again. “Nope, so stupid. He’d laugh at me then tell me to assume the position.”

He paced some more, going over various scenarios in his head, various conversation starters, trying to figure out a way to tell Wade in the nicest way possible that Peter wanted to fuck him absolutely  _stupid_. 

“Well, I definitely can’t say that.” he muttered. “Maybe we can trade? Maybe he’ll let do it our second time, he can top this time and maybe he’ll bottom for me another– _ARGH_!” 

Frustrated with being so anxious over something so simple, knowing damn well Wade would probably say yes just because he never  _ever_ said no, Peter took a deep breath and let himself into the apartment. 

“Babe?” he called when he didn’t see Wade at first. “Are you home?” 

A noise from the bedroom and Peter dropped his backpack on the floor to head that way, knocking lightly on the partly open door and poking his head around to say–

–well to say absolutely nothing at all,  because Wade definitely wouldn’t hear him over how loud he was moaning  _Peter’s_ name, arching off the bed with his legs splayed and eyes shut and working a thick toy in an unsettling shade of neon purple in and out of his body hard enough that Peter could hear the  _squelch_ and  _slick_ of every push. 

“Pete…” Wade moaned and Peter’s knees about gave out. “Ah ah ah fuck me babe, come on come on fuckin’  _wreck_ me fuckfuckfuck–” 

He might have screamed in alarm when there was suddenly a body on top of him, but it took about half a second for Wade to realize the body was in fact Peter, and it took another half a second for him to realize Peter was  _naked_ and oh  _yay_ Wade tossed the toy away and the  _noise_ Peter made when he could stroke into Wade without even having to stretch him was just fucking  _wonderful_. 

Super stamina and lightning fast refractory periods were  _also_ just fucking wonderful because Wade was coming almost the second Peter bottomed out inside of him and Peter wasn’t usually a quick shooter, but he also wasn’t usually balls deep inside his boyfriend either after watching the same boyfriend fuck himself on a toy while moaning Peter’s name. 

 _Yes_ , super stamina and lightning fast refractory periods were wonderful, because when Peter flipped Wade over onto all fours and drove back into him both of them were fully ready to go another round, Peter as hard as he’d ever been, Wade still not exactly sure why or how this was happening but fully onboard for the ride of his life.  

And later, after Wade had bruises on his waist from Peter holding him too tight and the headboard had cracked when Wade had shouted harder and Peter had taken him  _harder_ –

–later they flopped back on the bed and Peter was too delirious to complain about having to lay in the wet spot and Wade was halfway to comatose from that second orgasm, and Peter started laughing first, throwing his arm over his eyes and cracking up laughing because honestly, what the fuck.

“What the fuck, Wade?” he laughed out loud. “You like to bottom?” 

“I like to bottom for  _you_.” Wade corrected, feeling around blindly for a half discarded bottle of water. “Just figured topping wasn’t your sort of thing.” 

“You trying to say I act like a bottom?” Peter teased, propping up on one elbow and attempting a sweet kiss on Wade’s forehead. “Is that what you’re saying?” 

“I’m saying you power squat in spandex.” Wade pointed out. “And one night you compared the size of our hands and told me how big mine were while batting your eye lashes. The first time I called you baby boy, you almost creamed yourself. Also, no one has an ass like this that doesn’t like to get railed. Yes, you look like a bottom.” 

“That’s fair.” Peter admitted. “And I figured you were too toppy to bottom.” 

“Now you’re just making up shit.” Wade complained, dragging Peter down against his body and holding him tight. “That’s against the rules.” 

“You’re obsessed with my ass.” Peter started counting off on his fingers. “You eat me out like you’re fucking starving for it. Every day you point out at least three surfaces I’d look great bent over and you always  _always_ make me sit on your lap. You’re toppy.” 

“I outweigh you by a hundred pounds.” Wade countered. “It just makes sense for you to sit on my lap. And for the record, straight guys would want dat ass, have you  _seen_ your butt, Pete? And just because I say you’d look good bent over something doesn’t mean I’m thinking about dicking you down on it, maybe I was begging for compliments. Maybe I wanted you to say _I_ would look good bent over that counter too.” 

“Never in a million years would I have thought you wanted to get bent over a counter.” Peter declared and when Wade made a face, he leaned close and murmured, “But now that I know different, I’ll make sure it happens, yeah?” 

“Yes please.” Wade stretched out against the pillows, wincing at the soreness in his core. “Were you this rough with Harry?” 

“I never topped with Harry.” Peter informed him, and then– “No talking about exes while we’re naked.” 

“My bad.” Wade peered at him curiously. “Never?” 

“ _Never_.” 

“Homeboy was missing out.” 

“I know, right? I’m  _excellent_ at this sort of thing.” 

**********************

**********************

“Call it in the air.” Wade said, tossing a quarter up and Peter shouted “Heads!” just like he always did. 

“Heads.” Wade grinned when he picked the coin up off the floor. “Looks like you get tops this morning, baby boy.”

“Damn right I get tops.” Peter stripped off his shirt and pushed Wade towards the bedroom. “Assume the position, babe. Suns up, buns up.”


	17. When Wade Met Hal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> {For those who don’t know, Hal Jordan is the Green Lantern, who was played by Ryan Reynolds in a spectacularly cringe worthy movie several years ago. This is basically Ryan Reynolds in one costume meeting Ryan Reynolds in another costume and it was very fun to write}

“Wade!” Peter stood up and waved, motioning the blonde over to the table he’d saved in the corner. “Baby, you’re  _late_. I thought you weren’t gonna make it.”   
  
“Heya Petey.” Wade bent down and kissed his cheek, smirking when Peter blushed a little. “My god you’re cute, still blushing when I kiss you. What the fuck.”   
  
“Stop that.” Peter blushed harder. “I’m still getting used to all this, remember? Kissing my hot boyfriend in public and going on dates and–”  
  
“And being madly in love?” Wade finished confidently. “Don’t worry. We’re only six months into this whole thing, you got  _years_ to learn not to blush over my bullshit.”   
  
“Wonderful.” Peter sighed loudly, but he still smiled, running his hands confidently over Wade’s arms and  _mm-hmming_  over the muscles. “Ready for a drink? Also, I have some news!”   
  
“Can’t wait to hear your news.” Wade promised. “Let me grab a couple beers and I’ll–” he stopped, cocking his head when he saw the beer already sitting in front of Peter. “You already have a drink, Pete. Did you buy your own drink? you just said that you’re still getting used to the whole dating thing, but you know  _I’m_ supposed to buy your drinks, right?” 

  
  
“Don’t worry, he didn’t buy his own drink.” Someone else interrupted, someone else blonde and buff and wearing a smirk so cocky Wade was almost impressed by the sheer amount of  _swagger_ coming from the man. “Seemed a real shame that someone so pretty was drinking alone so I helped change that.”   
  
“You helped change that.” Wade repeated, narrowing his eyes and sizing the newcomer up. “And you are?”   
  
“This is Hal Jordan.” Peter supplied helpfully, pushing Wade forward a little and muttering for him to  _be polite_. “He’s a test pilot for um– sorry, you’re a test pilot for-?”   
  
“Ferris Aircraft.” Hal supplied, arching a perfect eyebrow when Wade’s grip on his hand tightened to bruising. “But before that I was in the United States Air Force. You can call me Captain.”   
  
“Oh I’m not calling you that.” Wade said blandly. “Wade Wilson. I kill people for a living. Former Special Forces, but don’t worry I won’t make you call me General or anything.”  
  
“Wade.” Peter blanched. “ _Sheesh_.”   
  
“Don’t worry kiddo.” Hal winked at Peter and didn’t let go of Wade’s hand, squeezing hard enough to hurt. “Pilots own the skies, but someone’s gotta be down here on the ground taking care of things. Boots on the ground, the dirty work and all that. Good to meet you, soldier.”   
  
“Not a soldier.” Wade corrected, feeling the bones in Hal’s hand grind together as their shake went on and on, neither willing to let go first. “Just someone who unalives other someones. But hey, you’re a test pilot now huh? That’s pretty cool. They didn’t want you for the real stuff anymore? You bounce just enough to be a crash dummy?”  
  
“Test pilots save lives by ensuring the planes are safe to use.” Hal retorted, straightening his shoulders. “And I haven’t failed a flight yet.”   
  
“And we are all so thankful for it.” Wade bared his teeth in a smile and Hal bared his teeth in a smile and between them, Peter just sighed and put a hand on each of theirs, tapping into his Spidey strength just a bit to pull them apart.   
  
“ _Anyway_.” he said loudly so both men would turn and look at him. “Hal and I started chatting because I recognized the logo on his jacket as one that I’ve seen at Oscorp and apparently he’s testing out a new flight suit for a different company now, the Green Corps? Lantern Corps? Is that what you called them?” 

“Green Lantern Corps.” Hal corrected.   
  
“Hm.” Wade eyed the logo on Hals chest, a small green design that looked like a circle stuck between two lines. “What company has a circle sandwich for their logo?”   
  
“It’s not a circle sandwich, it’s a  _lantern_.” Hal said tightly. “And I’d ask you what sort of  _soldier_ wears a Spider-man jacket.”   
  
“Don’t knock it if you ain’t tried it.” Wade winked purely to aggravate the other man, and Peter rolled his eyes over the attempt. “And as fun as this whole moment is, I’m actually here to buy Peter a drink and try to get him home and naked–”   
  
“ _Wade_!”   
  
“–and you’re sort of cramping my style, so if you don’t mind?” Wade raised his eyebrows and made a motion like Hal should step aside. “That’d be great, thanks.”   
  
“Oh my god,  _stop_.” Peter tugged at Wade to slow him down. “Listen. The suit Hal testing out tomorrow is one I’ve worked on! Isn’t that cool? My designs are good enough for Oscorp to offer them out as product!”   
  
“That  _is_ awesome, baby boy.” Forgetting the annoyingly attractive intrude for just a moment, Wade grinned down at Peter and kissed his cheek again. “And I’m super proud of you. Definitely deserving of a drink and a night out, huh?”   
  
“Yeah that sounds super fun but even more fun?” Peter’s eyes glowed in excitement and Wade’s heart soared a little because he  _loved_ when Peter was excited. “Hal says he can get us in to see the tests! Wouldn’t you love to do that? To see the systems I’ve been working on for the last year in action would be AMAZING!”   
  
“Wait, you’ve never actually seen the suit in action?” Wade frowned over the thought of Peter not getting to see what he’d worked so hard on, then frowned even harder when Hal interjected with a condescending–  
  
“Most of the testing is done through computers, champ. Gotta make sure things aren’t going to blow up the moment someone like me gets in the seat, right?”   
  
“Oh, right.” Wade blew out a deep breath. “Someone like you– _champ_ –getting in the seat and blowing up would be–”   
  
“WADE!”   
  
“I was gonna say awful.” he defended when Peter scowled at him. “I was! I just can’t figure out why they need test pilots if you run all the stuff through the computer first!”   
  
“I’ll have you know test pilots serve a very important function as–”   
  
“Alright alright, enough.” Peter threw his hands in the air in exasperation. “Hal, give us a moment please. Wade, a word?”   
  
He dragged Wade over to the corner and glared up at him. “What the hell are you doing? Hal is offering to get us passes to a top secret flight suit testing and you’re being an asshole!”   
  
“I beg to differ.” Wade countered. “Me being an asshole has nothing to do with getting passes to super secret super spy stuff, and everything to do with big and blonde and buff over there buying you a drink and spending every spare second staring at your ass!“   
  
“You’re big and blonde and buff and were planning on buying me a drink and spend every spare second staring at my ass too.” Peter pointed out. “Based on that alone, you two should get alone  _great_. What’s the problem?”   
  
“Okay me and that guy?” Wade pointed in Hal’s direction, and the pilot winked and smiled at Peter before not subtly flipping Wade off. “We are  _nothing_ alike, I would never do that!”   
  
“You do that all the time.”   
  
“Okay.” Wade huffed. “Well at least I don’t go around bragging about my job!”   
  
“No, you’re right. You don’t brag about your job, you just announce loudly and often that you kill people.” Peter deadpanned. “Which is  _much_ better than mentioning a past in the armed forces.”   
  
“It sorta is.” Wade kicked at the floor, sulking a little. “I just don’t know what you see in him, or why the hell you’re wasting your time smiling at that goon.”  
  
“I don’t see anything in him except free passes to a product test that I really want to go to.” Peter assured him, standing up on his toes and pressing a soft kiss to Wade’s mouth. “I’ve been working on aspects of this suit for an entire year, have only seen it happen on computer and actually getting to see someone use it? That’s too good to pass up.”   
  
“I’m gonna be honest, I stopped listening after you kissed me.” Wade confessed and Peter laughed quietly, leaning up to give him another one. “So even though Hal is a hunky crash dummy you’d still rather hang out with me?”   
  
“So much.” A quick nod. “Don’t worry babe. You’re the only hunky crash dummy I’m interested in.”   
  
“I’m not a crash dummy!”   
  
“You fell off the roof last weekend Wade.” Peter said patiently. “Then hopped up and shouted ‘I thought memory foam soles were supposed to save lives, these shoes are crap’.”   
  
“Okay, I’m kind of a crash dummy.”   
  
“And I love you for it.” Peter whispered. “Please play nice with Hal so I can go?”  
  
“Okay.” Wade conceded. “But people who wear lanterns on their coats are dorks, we agree on that, right?”   
  
“Says the man with an ‘I Heart Spidey’ on the back of his eighties bomber jacket.” Peter snorted. “Do you have to wear that in public?”   
  
“Yes.” Wade said seriously. “Because I heart the fuck out of Spidey.”   
  
“Spidey hearts the fuck outta you too.” Peter returned. “Now go make nice and stop letting Hal aggravate you.”   
  
“He  _sucks_ , Pete.”   
  
“Yes, the man with the green lantern sucks.” Peter shoved Wade back towards the bar. “Go play nice anyway.” 


	18. SpiderVerse

“So this is your universe?” Miles peered up at buildings that were familiar but not quite right, at stores that had a letter or two off in their name, at colors that just felt  _off_. “It seems dark.”   
  
“It’s not as bright as yours.” Peter kicked away a piece of trash as they passed an alley. “Not as clean cut as yours. And not as hopeful as yours, if I’m being honest.   
  
“Well, why not?” Miles ran his hand over faded graffiti on a wall, frowning over the dull colors and sloppy lines. “What’s so bad about this universe that everything is like this?”   
  
“Nothing’s  _bad_ about my universe.” Peter said irritably. “It’s just…  _different_. Things are a little more serious. Not every situation can be defused by a witty one liner, I don’t crack jokes after I get hurt. You know, people die and you don’t really get over it. Guilt never really leaves, it just sort of hurts a little less when the sun’s up. Heroes aren’t as good as you think they are, and bad guys aren’t all bad. The lines between right and wrong are a little more blurred over here and it’s reflected–“ 

Peter waved his hands towards the sunset that wasn’t as brilliant as Miles would have expected, the music from a store that sounded just half a step flat. "It’s reflected in everything you see.” 

  
  
“My dad would hate it.” Miles decided, wrinkling his nose at the smell of less than fresh food on display outside a corner shop. “He likes things black and white, right and wrong, good guys and bad guys.”   
  
“Your dad would hate it.” Peter confirmed. “But I’ve gotten used to it. Tell you the truth, I didn’t even notice how off this one was until I ended up in your verse. Yours is so bright and well meaning and colorful, it makes my home seems like a less friendly version, but hey. It still needs a Spider-man, right? Even if my world considers me a menace to society, and your Peter Parker was a golden-boy.”   
  
“So, if the lines are blurred in this verse–” Miles risked a glance up at Peter. “–are you  _really_ a good guy? Like my Peter Parker, he was a really good guy, right up to the end. Kept telling me it would be okay, gave me the courage to go on and do something with myself. Is that you too? Because when I met you, you seemed to hate being Spider-man and kept telling me to walk away.“   
  
“Most days I’m a good guy.” Peter met his eyes steadily. “And most days I love being Spider-man, but I’ve been doing it for a long time, kid. And we might be heroes but we’re also human and we get tired.”     
  
“What–what does that mean?”   
  
“It means–” Peter snatched a few apples and handed the vendor a couple dollars. “It means that sometimes you’ll run into people who are evil down to their core, and just breathing around them makes you sick. People who are so corrupt your skin will crawl and you’ll never feel clean again. And those people? You won’t want to save them. You’ll want to save everyone  _from_ them, and then leave the baddies to die because you know the world will be a better place without them.“   
  
He took a big bite of the apple and added, “And  _those_ are the times where you know if you’re a good guy or not, Miles.”   
  
“…Have you left some baddies to die?”   
  
“I haven’t saved everyone I should have.” Peter said evenly, truthfully. “But I haven’t saved everyone I wanted to, either. It evens out in some shitty way.”   
  
“Oh.” Miles took a bite of his own apple, chewing as he thought. “Your Uncle Ben, right? You didn’t save him? I feel like all the Peter Parker’s I’ve met, it’s always an Uncle Ben"   
  
“I feel guilty about my Uncle Ben every day.” Peter tossed the apple up in the air and caught it again. “But I also know that what happened to him could have happened in any store on any corner in this city. And you’re right– it’s almost always an Uncle Ben.”   
  
“Mine was Uncle Aaron.” Quietly, Miles copying Peter by tossing the apple into the air. “I feel guilty about that even though I don’t think I should. He was a bad guy, you know. And bad guys deserve—“ Miles coughed to clear his throat. "Was your Uncle Ben a good man? Or was he like– was he like Uncle Aaron?”   
  
“Just because someone’s involved in a life of crime doesn’t mean they aren’t a good man.” When Miles looked up at him doubtfully, Peter shrugged. “Even mobsters go to church and give to the poor and kiss their moms. Wouldn’t you say that makes them good men?”   
  
“I think the murders over shadow it.” Miles pointed out. “Don’t you?”   
  
“Your Uncle Aaron loved you.” Peter switched directions and pulled his mask out of his pocket, securing it before  _thwipping_ a web up to the top of the building and starting to scale the wall. “He encouraged you and cheered you on and when it came time for him to obey his boss and hurt you? He walked away. He was a good man.”   
  
“…oh.” Miles stared up at the building for a minute, then  _thwipped_ his own web out and attached it to Peter’s butt, climbing up after him. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Um, are you still into Mary Jane in this universe?”   
  
“We aren’t together anymore, no.” Peter scowled when his pants started slipping, and reached back to reattach Miles web to the building. “Not for a few years now.”   
  
“So I’m doomed to be single if I’m Spider-man?” It was Miles’ turn to scowl. “That doesn’t seem fair. I’m too young to give up on love! Plus, my mom says I’m cute. I don’t want to be single and gloomy forever just because I can stick to things.“   
  
“Well the gloomy comes and goes, but I never said anything about being single.” Peter chuckled. “And I might have given up on love there for a little bit, but it found me whether I wanted it or not.”   
  
“Uh— that sounds ominous?” Miles offered. “So you’re in love? What’s her name?”   
  
“ _His_ name is Wade.” Peter climbed over the railing at the rooftop and reached down to help Miles up as well. “But he goes by Deadpool. He’s a mercenary.”   
  
“He’s a mercenary?!” Mile’s eyes about popped out of his head when Peter jogged over to a man dressed in red and black spandex, sporting enough weapons to look like a character in those video games his mom didn’t let him play. “Sorry, you said he’s a merce–”   
  
He shut up when Peter ripped his mask off and jumped into the guy’s arms, then the guy tore  _his_ mask off and– “Oh yikes that’s–” Miles did a double take when he saw Wade’s face. “–That’s unfortunate. What the heck happened there?”   
  
“Miles, this is Wade.” Peter brought the guy over to meet him and Miles stuck out his hand automatically, smiling as big as he could through his own mask and thankful that no one could tell he was still staring like a damn fool. “Wade, this is Miles. He’s one of the ones I met when the universe did that awful blippy thing? Remember?”   
  
“I definitely remember dis booty disappearing into a black hole, yeah huh.” Wade patted Peter’s ass, and Peter smacked his hand away, muttered, “For the love of god,  _behave_.”   
  
“It’s uh– It’s nice to meet you? Mr. Deadpool, sir?” Miles squeaked, trying not to gape at the scars and bumps and–seriously what was going on with this guy’s face? “My name is Miles Morales.”   
  
“What’s with you Spidey’s and not hitting puberty until your thirty?” Wade joked, elbowing Miles in a friendly fashion. “Don’t worry, Pete’s voice didn’t drop until just last year, it was like hanging out with one of the chipmunks until everything finally descended and it got deep–”   
  
“Miles is in highschool, babe.” Peter cut in, and Wade gasped. “And by the way, my voice didn’t just drop last year, what the hell?”

Wade ignored Peter and clapped both hands onto Miles’ cheeks, squishing them together. “Oh my god he’s a baby! Pete you brought me a baby-bug! Can we keep him! He’s so little! Look at his little suit and his tiny feet!“   
  
“Uh–” Miles tried to intervene. “Actually–”   
  
“I shall call him squishy.” Wade said solemnly. “And he shall be mine, and he shall be MY SQUISHY!”   
  
“Ummm—”   
  
“Oh I know!” Wade snapped his fingers. “I’ll get food! Kids like food right, that will make you trust me, right?”   
  
“ _What_?!”  
  
“Alright, that’s enough of that.” Peter disengaged Wade and pushed Miles back a short distance. “Don’t mind him, he just has zero manners and some how even less tact. He’s nice though. Means well.”   
  
“He’s your….” Miles hesitated. “Life partner?”   
  
“Boyfriend.” Peter corrected. “About a year now. We run patrol together and eat junk food together and the sweatpants I was wearing when you met me? His.”   
  
“Which is why they were grey and terrible?”   
  
“Which is why they were grey and terrible.” Peter confirmed. “But don’t tell him that, he’s weirdly proud of those ratty things.”   
  
“So he–” Miles’s eyes lit up when Wade suddenly popped back up with bags of food. “Is that Mexican food?”   
  
“Piles of it.” Peter grinned. “Let me show you how we end most nights of patrol.”  
  
****************  
****************  
  
“So your universe isn’t all black and white.” Miles said thoughtfully, chowing down on his fourth burrito of the night. “Sometimes bad guys are good, sometimes good guys aren’t really heroes and apparently mercenaries are super chill if not a little weird?”   
  
“Super chill and a  _lot_ weird.” Peter winked over at Wade. “It’s not as hopeful and bright as your universe, but it has good sides.”   
  
“Hey, speaking of good sides, have you met my other person Wanda Wilson?” Wade asked curiously. “Busty blonde gal, rocks some red spandex like nobody’s business? I don’t want to scare you and say she’s terrifying, but Squishy Spidey, she is terrifying. But in like… a sweet sort of way.”  
  
“I– I don’t know a Wanda Wilson.”   
  
“And you don’t want to.” Peter shook his head quickly. “If that particular spandex clad disaster shows up in your universe, just take the day off and move right on with your life.”   
  
“Pick my battles.” Miles stated, and then– “Did he just call me Squishy Spidey?”  
  
“Yeah, good luck with that.” Peter said dryly. “Once Wade gives you a nickname, you’re stuck with it. I’ve been Peter Pumpkin Pie for about eight months now.”   
  
“Well as long as no one at school gets ahold of that nickname, we’re chill.” Miles laughed and Wade high fived him behind Peter’s back.   
  
“That’s the spirit.” he said confidently. “See? All Spidey’s think I’m great, just takes a little time to get used to my particular brand of charm!”   
  
“How long does it take?” Miles whispered, and Peter whispered, “I’ll let you know when it happens for me.”   
  
Miles just grinned, and went back to eating his burrito. 


	19. The One With the Proposition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wade tries to convince Peter they are Meant to Be by way of charts and graphs and his very best teacher voice

For a city that never slept, full of lights that never dimmed, streets and neighborhoods overrun with people and cars and every manner of life, New York had the comforting ability to always look the  _same_ from the rooftops. 

From up here it was all lights and traffic moving in predictable patterns, bluesy music from corner theaters and the roar of the crowds at the playing fields, the screech of horns at the one particular intersection and the ring of bells as bike messengers navigated between cars. This particular block smelled like the sandwich shop down below and the one over would smell of booze from the bar and Peter knew the one after that would be sweet fruits and exotic foods from the market. 

Two weeks he’d been gone from the city, escorting May and one of her gal pals over to California and onto a cruise ship before spending a few days bumming around the beach with Harry. It had been nice to spend time with his auntie and it had been  _wonderful_ to lay around by the water with one of his oldest friends, to meet Harry’s wife and darling twins and celebrate the success he’d had with Oscorp now that his father was out of the picture. 

But it was good to be  _home_ , good to be back in  _his_ city, perched on  _his_ rooftop, listening with one ear to the police scanner and straining the other for anything that sounded like–” 

“Yoohoo! Peterkins!”  _There_ it was, there was what Peter had been waiting for.

“Watch me stick this landing!” Loud and proud and wrapped in red and black spandex, Wade leapt over from the adjoining roof and threw himself into a double front somersault to clear the gap, coming out of the flip with all the grace and aplomb of a gymnast–

–and tripping into a skidding sort of face plant with all the subtlety of a half drunk frat boy. 

“Wade.” Peter jogged over to help.. “Are you okay?” 

“Peachy.” Wade jumped to his feet and shook his head comically, bits of gravel from the rooftop flinging off his mask. “Peachy fucking keen. Pete you’re–” even with a mask on, it was obvious Wade was grinning. “–you’re home. You’re back. Hi.” 

“Hi.” Peter’s grin was just as big beneath his own mask, probably edging towards stupid, but he didn’t care. “How um– how have you been?” 

“Oh you know.” Wade sounded ridiculous and shy and absolutely smitten. “Better now that you’re back around. When did you get home?” 

“Like two hours ago.” Peter lifted his mask first to his nose, and then all the way off so Wade could see the happiness in his eyes. “I didn’t want to wait to see you. I missed you.” 

“ _Oh_.” Wade made the sort of noise someone usually made after being sucker punched, all shocked air and disbelief. “You actually said it. I thought we were still doing that thing where we pretend we don’t really like each other but secretly have heart eyes.” 

“Yeah uh–” Peter scratched at his hair awkwardly. “About that. Had a couple weeks to think about it and I decided if we’re going to hang out, we should maybe clear a few things up? Like about how you and I–” 

“WAIT!” Wade held up both hands and screeched until Peter stopped talking. “Wait wait, I am one hundred percent prepared for this conversation. Hold on, don’t say anything else. I have charts and everything.” 

“….you have…charts?” Peter echoed, more than a little confused when Wade went dashing over to where they usually stashed their back up supplies, ripping the plate of a no longer in use AC unit to withdraw several rolled posters. “Wade, what the hell are you doing?” 

“I have a proposition for you!” Wade snapped open a pop up easel and arranged the various papers. “I have bullet points and summaries and graphs and all sorts of–” 

“I’ve been back in town for two hours and you’re propitioning me?” Peter asked incredulously and Wade paused mid-unrolling a poster. 

“I mean.. I could wait another hour? If that’s what you want?” 

“No no.” Peter dropped back onto the roof, folding his legs and propping his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands. “You have posters and charts and everything. Whatever I want to say about missing you can wait.” 

“Yay.” Wade finger gunned at Peter and went back to setting up what was apparently quite the display, calling over his shoulder, “I missed you too, sweet cheeks. This has been the most boring two weeks of my life. Can you believe Iron Man doesn’t like to have his butt complimented by anyone but Captain America? Got the ol’ patriotic frisbee to the head courtesy of one shockingly grumpy hundred year old when I leered for a little too long.”

“Well yeah.” Peter lifted a shoulder in a half hearted shrug. “They’ve been married for like, ten years. You’re lucky Cap just bounced his shield off your head. Besides, I thought my butt was the only one you like.” 

“Peter-bug, I am an equal-but-opportunity lover.” Wade informed him, finally pleased with his set up and whipping a laser pointer out from one of his pockets. “Now then. Ready for my proposition?” 

“Proposition me, big guy.” Peter wrinkled his nose in a smile. “Let’s hear it.” 

“Exhibit A.” Wade pointed to a sheet with two brightly colored pie charts. “Thanks to my data collecting from May and again from last month, we can see a distinct increase in the amount of laughter verses eye rolls from my terrible jokes, and here, this red area? This is how often you blush and as is plainly obvious by my meticulously detailed graphs, you have been blushing  _alot_ lately.” 

“Oh my god.” Peter turned as red as the graph and Wade waggled his eyebrows teasingly. “You catalog that sort of thing?” 

“Always.” Wade tapped the chart emphatically. “And based on these findings, I think it is a safe assumption that you not only enjoy my rather ribald company, but perhaps even enjoy it on a level other than friendship.” 

“Based on these findings.” Peter held back a snort of at how perfectly pleased Wade looked. “I think you’re probably correct.” 

“This chart–” He whipped the pie chart away with a flourish to reveal another poster behind it. “–this one here plots the frequency of dick jokes made by me compared to dick jokes made by you and this sqiggly line here–” he pointed out a purple line. “–this is how often you laugh at the dicks jokes and again, we can see a  _distinct_ increase.” 

“So what’s your proposition?” Peter prompted, both impressed by the effort Wade had gone through for this little presentation and wanting to collapse into hysterical laughter over the laser pointer that shone a spidey mask on each chart. 

“Wait wait, there’s more.” A third poster up behind the graph. “This charts the amount of time we spend on the phone either texting or calling, as well as detailing the time of day we tend to contact each other and I’d like you to note here–” the laser Spidey danced over a specific line. “– that other than you bein’ away on vacation, you have called me every day at exactly ten thirty am for the past five weeks. Seeing as how I’m a total creeper and know you wake up at ten thirty the mornings after patrol, I submit that you are calling me from bed every morning, meaning that you are thinking about me as soon as you wake up.” 

“…alright?” Peter nodded slowly. “You’re not… not wrong. I do think of you right when I wake up.” 

“So to summarize the data, add in additional facts that you may or may not know but could probably guess based on the information provided and to extrapolate additional theories.” Wade put the last of the posters away and turned off the laser pointer. “You’re laughing more at my jokes, and making you laugh is about my favorite thing in the world. You are making dick jokes, and my god I can’t tell you how much I want you to be saying things about my package. You blushing is the cutest fuckin’ think I’ve ever seen in my life, and since I pick up my phone literally halfway through the first ting when you call, you know I’m thinking about you first thing in the morning.” 

“So additional theories–” Wade cleared his throat and lifted up his mask so Peter could see the earnestness in his eyes. “–you are in fact, head over heels for me and have been waiting for me to make the first move, hoping to speed it along by going away on a fake vacation because that would allow me to miss you and therefore ask you out so I don’t risk losing you.” 

“Wait.” Peter tried not to giggle. “You think it was a fake vacation?’ 

“My proposition is this–” Wade crouched down and took one of Peter’s hands in his own. “Dinner and maybe a movie, then we get ice cream on the walk back to my place which I will either thoroughly clean or just burn down and buy a new one. Maybe a few drinks, a chaste kiss on the couch that leads fairly rapidly to nakedness and I will cherish the fuck outta you until the sun rises. How does that sound?” 

“Wade.” Peter looked down at the thick fingers twined through his. “Back up. You think it was a  _fake_ vacation?” 

“Well, I mean–” 

“Because I really was with Aunt May.” Peter pulled his phone out and scrolled through a few pictures. “And then with Harry and his wife and the sweetest kids you’ve ever seen. My vacation wasn’t some trick to get you to make the first move.” 

“What?! You actually took– it was a _real vacation_??” 

“And while we’re on the topic?” Peter gestured to the charts. “What’s with the professor approach?” 

“I thought you’d be horny for big words and diagrams and a teacher voice.” Wade admitted. “I had to look up  _extrapolate_. Turns out it doesn’t mean what it sounds like it means.” 

“Oh my god.” Peter shook his head, not bothering to try and hide the adoration in his voice. “Wade you are– you are amazing. I accept your proposition.” 

“Yeah?” Wade asked hopefully. “Teacher voice worked on you?” 

“ _You_ worked on me.” Peter budged closer, bumping their noses teasingly. “I half expected you to use a longer  _pointer_ though. I might have agreed sooner if you were giving the presentation with  _that_ sort of thing.” 

“Was that a dick joke?” 

“Hell yeah it was. Add it to the diagram.” 

“Oh my god, I  _love_ you.” 


	20. Fingerprints (Soulmate AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt from @deppfan16: a soulmate au where the soulmark was the other persons fingerprint and you felt the connection/bond when their finger touched the print.

The soul mark was supposed to appear at midnight of a persons eighteenth birthday, a swirl of lines in a perfectly unique design that would exactly match the finger print of the one meant to be your soulmate. It presented just a shade lighter than skin tone, and once matched with a soulmates touch, turned a brilliant gold. 

Most people’s soul mark was on their cheek, a visible enough spot but a place only someone trusted and familiar would touch– a brush of fingers as they wiped a crumb away from or leaned in for a kiss, perhaps. 

Other times the mark appeared in a place far more intimate– the swell of a breast, the jut of a hip bone, the tempting curve of a well rounded rear– places only a lover would see and learn and explore. 

Some people covered their mark up with skin tone foundation or concealer, not wanting anyone to see it until it had turned gold. Others dusted even the unclaimed soul marks with glitter and accented it with rhinestones, drawing people’s eyes to it. 

If Peter Parker had a choice, he would have dusted his soul mark with glitter  _and_ put a rhinestone in the center. He might have even let anyone who asked come up and try to match with him, even random strangers on the street. And if his mark lightened to a brilliant gold, Peter would have showed it off proudly. 

But as it was, Peter didn’t  _have_ a choice for how he displayed his soul mark. His eighteenth birthday came and went without the appearance of a fingerprint anywhere on his body, and his nineteenth birthday came and went without the appearance of a fingerprint anywhere on his body, and when his twentieth birthday came Peter didn’t bother looking at all, and when his twenty first came around, Peter went out and got raging drunk which was very  _very_ difficult with his spidey-enhanced metabolism and announced to the entire bar–

“Fingerprints are over rated! Who the hell wants fingerprints!” 

His words were laughed off, chalked up to the drunken mumbling of a college kid with too much alcohol in his system and Peter had sat in the back of the cab on the way back to his apartment and sobbed into his hands. 

He couldn’t have a soulmate if he didn’t have a soul mark for them to match with, could he? 

******************

******************

“Fingerprints are over rated.” Wade said sullenly, eyeing Domino’s recently golden soul mark proudly displayed on the strip of skin where her vest didn’t quite meet her jeans. “Who the hell wants fingerprints?” 

“Keep talking shit.” Domino tossed back her shot and wiped her mouth. “Find out if you get hit. Just cos I’m lucky in everything including love doesn’t mean you get to rain on my parade.” 

“Yeah, what was I thinking?” Wade slanted her a sideways look. “Who’s the lucky lesbian?” 

“Me!” Domino crowed and Weasel high fived her over the bar. “I’M THE LUCKY LESBIAN!” 

“That’s not–” the bar exploded into cheers and Wade shook his head. “That’s not what I meant and you-” 

“THIS ROUNDS ON ME!” Domino yelled. “To soulmates!” 

“–and you know it.” he finished, pushing his drink away and leaving a couple dollars on the bar for Weasel. “I’m outta here.” 

No one noticed Wade slinking out the back door and he was glad for it, ducking his head against the rain and taking off down the street. 

He didn’t want to be there for a celebration of soulmates, didn’t want to hear about how lucky Domino was, didn’t want to stand there while the other patrons in the bar showed off their soul marks because even a group of degenerates like the ones at Sister Margaret’s were suckers for romance when it came to soul mates. 

“Fingerprints are over rated.” he told himself again, staring down at his hands and grimacing at the rough skin, the scarred palms and fingers so ruined by his mutation that he no longer had fingerprints.

No finger prints meant nothing to match with a soulmate– not that Wade thought he even had a soulmate anymore. The gorgeous mark over his heart had disappeared in the mutation as well, so now he had no fingerprint mark and no fingerprints to match and it was probably a blessing altogether. 

Who wanted Deadpool as a soulmate?

*****************

Midnight found him on a rooftop next to Spidey just like almost every midnight did, and tonight Peter was as melancholy as Wade, so they sat in relative silence and listened to the city below. 

Finally Peter said, “It’s my birthday today. I’m twenty two.” 

“Many happy returns.” Wade bumped their shoulders together lightly. “What the hell are you doing sitting up here with me when you should be out partying?” 

“I dunno.” Peter shrugged and sighed, then lifted his mask and tossed it away, treating Wade to a view of thick brown hair and ridiculously clear skin. “I um– Wade? How do you feel about fingerprints?” 

“Can’t say I much care for them.” Wade lifted his own mask off and looked away from Peter’s curious glance. “Seeing as how I don’t have any, you know.” 

“You don’t have fingerprints?” Peter squinted at him. “I don’t mean like a soul mark, I mean–” 

“I don’t either.” Wade interrupted. “Or I guess I do. Don’t have one of those either, but I mean I literally don’t have fingerprints.” he pulled off his gloves and spread his fingers out. “See? Nothing. It’s why the cops can’t ever catch me in my shenanigans. Don’t leave any fingerprints to track.”

“Huh.” Peter was quiet for another minute. “I um– I don’t have a soulmark. Not anywhere. Never have. Just never showed up on my eighteenth birthday. Not my nineteenth neither. I’m twenty two today and I still haven’t gotten one. Guess I just won’t.” 

“Is that why you’re all moody blues and Eeyore status today? Don’t got a soul mark?” 

“Well yeah.” Peter wrinkled his nose. “What kind of person doesn’t have a soul mark? Can’t have a soulmate if you don’t have a soul mark to match.” 

“ _I’m_ that sorta person. Can’t have a soulmate if you don’t have fingerprints to match.” Wade wiggled his hands again. “Aren’t we a pair? You don’t have a fingerprint mark and I don’t have fingerprints at all. We’re a perfect match.” 

Wade said the words without thinking, more morose than he probably meant to be, too distracted by the  _ugh_ of his entire day to put any thought into what he’d said. 

But Peter turned and stared at him for a full minutes, something uncertain and hesitant flickering across his face before he took a deep breath and asked, “Do you– do you want to see if  _we’re_ soulmates?” 

“Pete, if you wanna fuck me just say it.” Wade booped him on the nose and stretched out on the roof. “You don’t gotta feed me some bullshit soulmate line to get in my pants.” 

“No that’s not why I’m asking.” Peter shook his head, then shook it again. “Not that I don’t wanna um– do that. But we can save that talk for later. I’m just saying. I don’t have a mark to match, and you don’t have fingerprints to match with. What if I don’t have a mark because you don’t have fingerprints?” 

“That seems like an awfully big coinky-dink.” Wade cursed himself for even  _hoping_. “Two spandex clad superheroes who both like the same food and have the same terrible sleep habits and lurk on the same rooftops also being soul mates? Sounds like some fan fiction.” 

“I don’t know what fan fiction is.” Peter returned evenly. “But lots of people meet their soulmates by coincidence. Same line at a coffee shop, crossing the street at the same time, both work in the same building for six years before one gets promoted and they finally shake hands. It happens all the time.” 

“Okay but still. Pretty bit coincidence if we both have weird soulmark issues and happen to be friends and hang out most nights.” 

“It’s my birthday.” Peter blurted then. “And I hate my birthday because my fucking soul mark never shows us. Call it my birthday present and we should just try. What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“I could break your heart.” Wade said matter of factly. “You can say it’s not a big deal, but I can’t imagine anything worse than thinking you’ve found your soulmate and then having the universe laugh in your face about it.” 

“But Wade–” 

“It would break  _my_ heart.” Wade cut in and Peter’s mouth clicked shut. “Pete, it would break  _my_ heart. Because it would make you sad and that sucks. But more than that? I can’t  _hope_ for this shit. I was pretty much thirty before my mutation kicked in and I was already getting panicky about not having found my soulmate. Bam, mutation and now I don’t even have a soulmark or fingerprints to match with someone? Pete, trying with you and then failing would– it would break my heart.  _That’s_ the worst that could happen.” 

“I’d still be here though.” Peter inched closer. “Soulmates or not, I’d be here afterwards. And maybe we’re soulmates and everything is gold and glittery and we live happily ever after. Maybe we’re not, and we go out for an actual dinner tomorrow and get dessert afterwards and maybe you  _actually_ kiss me instead of threatening to kiss me to shut me up when I get mouthy which sounds– I mean that sounds like a pretty good happily ever after too, right?” 

“Yeah?” Wade took a deep breath. “Cos you’re the first person I’ve let anywhere near me in a long time and it would really suck to try the whole ‘Happy Birthday let’s check soulmates’ and then lose you.” 

“I’m not going anywhere.” Peter held out a coaxing hand. “What do you say? Wanna try?” 

*****************

Dinner the next night was at one of those steakhouses that boasted a free meal if you could eat a seventy two ounce steak, and both Peter and Wade finished theirs in record time. 

They celebrated by buying an entire chocolate cake and eating it right from the bakery box while walking alongside the lake. 

Wade kissed Peter beneath the streetlight, burying his hands in the thick hair and tipping Peter’s head back and giving him the lightest, sweetest kiss ever had, whispering something quiet into Peter’s ear as they parted. 

Peter only smiled and touched Wade’s cheek, streaks of gold from his fingers glimmering bright for a few seconds before fading away. 


	21. Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter navigates being blind with the help of supportive friend Matt Murdock and supportive but horny Wade

“How are you holding up?” Matt spoke before he touched Peter’s shoulder, ran his hand along the top of the couch before coming around and sitting on the other end. “Everything alright?” 

“No.” Peter said quietly,  _very_ quietly, holding himself very still on the couch. His back was ram rod straight, head pointed straight at the wall, blank eyes seeing nothing at all. “No, everything is not alright.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Matt reached for Peter’s hand, then pressed a bottle of water into it. “Does Doc Connor’s think it’s permanent?” 

“He thinks it could go either way.” Peter replied in that same barely audible tone. “If the swelling goes away, I could be fine. If not, I might be blind the rest of my life. He doesn’t know what affect my powers could have on it.” 

“You’re whispering.” Matt lowered his voice as well and watched some of the tension leave Peter’s shoulders. “Your hearing is over sensitive?” 

“I can hear…” Peter’s fingers ripped the cushion on his lap into shreds. “Everything. I can hear everything and it  _hurts_.” 

“Sorry about that.” Matt moved closer, dropped his voice lower. “You get used to it. Eventually you won’t even notice.” 

“No.” Peter shook his head. “No I don’t think I will get used to it. It’s awful. It’s like my hearing is dialed to a thousand. I already sense just about everything and my skin is hyper sensitive too and now my hearing–” 

“It gets worse if you panic.” Matt said mildly, speaking from experience. “Deep breaths and slow words. You’ll adjust. I promise–” 

“Wade told me he loved me last night.” Peter said then and Matt’s jaw dropped. “That’s– I just heard your jaw drop. I don’t like that. Close your mouth please.” 

“Yep.” Matt cleared his throat. “So. Deadpool is in love with Spider-man, hm?” 

“Seems like it.” Peter tipped his head to listen to the noise from the apartment below. “She’s chopping vegetables for dinner tonight and her blade is dull so it makes an extra loud noise.” 

“Wow.” Matt sounded more than a little impressed. “Good for you.” 

“I don’t want to be hearing it.” A forlorn sort of sigh. “Anyway, Wade put me to bed last night. Wrapped my hand where I’d cut myself in the kitchen. Got me about a thousand blankets and as he left, told me he loved me.” 

“As he left the room?” 

“As he left the apartment after closing my bedroom door, the door at the end of the hall  _and_ my apartment door.” 

“So you  _weren’t_ meant to hear it?” 

“Nope.” 

“But you  _did_ hear it.” 

“Yep.” 

“How do you feel about it?” 

“Are you asking me as a friend?” Peter crooked a smile in Matt’s direction. “Or as someone who used to sleep with me and thinks we can do it again now that we have blindness in common?” 

“Blind sex is fun, Pete.” Matt said lazily and Peter laughed a little. “No awkward eye contact, everything feels extra good, no worrying if you look good to your partner because they can’t see you either. What’s not to love about it?” 

“Oh my god that’s just–” 

“–amazing, is the word you’re looking for. It’s amazing.” 

“Well as amazing as it might be–” Peter inched closer and then closer again and Matt opened his arms when he felt the couch dip, cuddling Peter up close to his chest. “God,  _thank you_. Not being able to see makes me feel a little touch starved.” 

“I know the feeling. Don’t worry.” Matt rubbed easy circles on Peter’s back. “Close your eyes. Seeing people don’t like when we just stare at them.” 

Peter laughed again and pressed closer. “Alright, so as amazing as blind sex might be, I’m actually thinking this might be okay for me and Wade. I know he’s been holding back from even talking about a relationship because he’s weird about his skin and thinks there’s no way I’d be okay with getting close to him but now that I can’t see….” 

“What, you’re going to use your blindness to coerce Wade into bed for sordid naked times?” Matt faux gasped. “That doesn’t sound very Friendly Neighborhood Spider Man to me!” 

“No, its more like Mega Horny Peter Parker.” he said blandly and Matt snorted a laugh as well. “What do you think, though? You’re dating people who can see, is it weird?” 

“Foggy’s great.” Matt assured him. “So is Jessica. You’re still you, right? Make a few adjustments and trust Wade to take care of you.” 

“You’re telling me to trust  _Deadpool_ to take care of me?” 

“I’m telling you to trust the man who didn’t leave your side from the moment you got hurt until the moment you were home safe and sound two days later and who whispered what I’m sure was a  _romance novel_  worthy love confession after he’d tucked you in and left you sleeping.” 

“Yeah alright, I can–” Peter sat up, tipped his head towards the door. “Is it weird I can recognize Wade’s walk now?” 

“Honestly Pete, you probably could always recognize his walk, it’s just more noticeable now.” 

“Hm.” Peter eased away a few feet. “Probably not great for the talk we’re going to have if I’m cuddling you.” 

“Probably not.” 

Wade knocked on the door first, then called, “Pete? It’s just me! I’m coming in, don’t freak out and don’t try to get up, I don’t want you to bang your shins on anything!” 

“Is he always that thoughtful?” Matt whispered and Peter nodded, flinching away from the volume of Wade’s voice.” 

The key turned in the lock and Wade stepped through. “I’m inside now! Not an innuendo! Where are you at?” 

“Living room.” Peter called back, and then– “Can you talk quieter? I’m hearing alot right now.” 

“Sorry.” Wade whispered from the kitchen as he apparently put groceries away. “Is that better?” and then footsteps into the living room. “Oh hey Matt. Bats of a feather flock together, huh?”

“The phrase is birds of a feather, Wade.” 

“Well yeah, but bats are blind.” Wade chuckled at his own terrible joke and then told Peter, “I’m walking around the couch now, gonna get right in front of you and check your eyes.” 

“Okay.” Peter smiled, knowing Wade didn’t know he could hear the squeak of floor boards or feel the couch dip beneath the weight of Wade’s hand. “Hi.” 

“Hi.” Wade’s fingers were rough at Peter’s cheek, but so so tender it made Peter shiver. “How are you today?” 

“Still not seeing anything.” 

“Oh baby boy.” Wade clucked his tongue. “M’sorry about that. I bought an e-reader on my way over, I thought I could download a whole bunch of books and we could listen together? And maybe um–” 

Peter could tell just by the change in Wade’s voice that he’d looked over at Matt. “Maybe I can keep you company the rest of the night?” 

“I’ll say goodbye, then.” Matt got up quickly, telling Peter, “You call me if you need anything alright? Either of you.” 

“Thanks, Matt.” Peter waited until the door closed then smiled at Wade. “I’d love for you to stay the night.” 

“Yeah?” Another touch at his cheek, lingering at the corner of his mouth. “Sound good?” 

“Stay with me.” Peter leaned in slowly, gratified when Wade moved closer so their foreheads touched instead of letting Peter accidentally head butt him. “All night. Who knows, I might even need help showering.” 

“Oh.” Wade made a wheezy sort of noise. “Wow. I’ve never been taken advantage of by a blind guy before. Should be fun.” 

Peter laughed out loud. “Yeah. Should be fun.” 


End file.
